nip thy affections (in the bloome)
by esquitor
Summary: Reborn is caught in some odd Groundhog Day situation, except it's more like Groundhog Life. This time around, he finds that Tsuna has grown up without him, and rather than leading vongola, he's trying to destroy it. Cool. Sign Reborn up for the war. (queerplatonic r27, x27, 692796, 27all, multiple background pairings. everyone is adults.)
1. Chapter 1: day 94

**Pairings:** potential R27 (both adults), parental!R27. Slight 692796, X27, who knows what others. **  
Warnings:** implied character deaths. maybe stuff in the future but nothing right now.  
 **A/N:** for khr bingo spot, 'gardener au', of a sort. more or less. i have a Thing for immortals / quasi-immortals / lived too long.

editing this in: chapters are not in chronological order. the chapter title will have the 'day after arrival' for the current chapter and each one doesn't usually span more than a day or two. or three. i'm trying really hard to write short chapters lmao.  
 **Summary:**  
Later, over a robust dinner of steak and stir-fried vegetables, Reborn posits:

"True or false. You're going to destroy Vongola."

And Sawada Tsunayoshi, he laughs.

(reborn is caught in some odd Groundhog Day situation, except it's more like Groundhog Life. this time around, sawada tsunayoshi indulges his bizarre behavior.)

* * *

/ / / / / / / / /

 **pluck the thorns from your skin**

/ / / / / / / / /

Reborn blinks himself awake. A rush of memories and thoughts come at him all at once and he forces himself to compartmentalize them. Sort them into little folders inside little file cabinets, label them neatly and concisely and clearly. It's an odd sort of thing to do, but after God only knows how many time it's happened, he stopped questioning it and just started doing.

First thing is to identify his surroundings.

He is in a living room. There is a fresh, steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of him, a newspaper folded in his lap, and a pair of fuzzy blue slippers at his feet. On his feet. Over? Encasing. It looks like a cloud, now that he thinks about it. The slippers, not his feet.

The couch is neither plush nor threadbare, but it does have a cover made of what has to be woven hemp fibers and it's starting to get extremely itchy against his calves. He's not wearing pants.

Actually, Reborn isn't wearing a shirt either. All he's got on is a bathrobe. It's silk. And colorful.

This must be- ah, no, wait, he hasn't got the Rolex. So, not the one where they're rich and dead. Probably.

Which only leaves—

"Reborn?"

His eyes flicker upwards, away from the Italian headline slashed across the newspaper.

"Are you okay? You've been staring at the paper for a while..."

Sawada Tsunayoshi. Of course. There isn't anyone else who Reborn's life revolves around. At least, not as much as it revolves around this one. At this point he's stopped keeping count.

(He can still recall exactly how many, though. If pressed.)

"Oh. Are you a different one?" The boy— man. Man. Young man. Tsunayoshi drifts over, forehead ablaze, and sinks into the couch next to Reborn. "What's the last thing you remember, Reborn?"

"You asked me what I'd like for lunch," Reborn drawls, snapping the newspaper open with a click of his tongue. Damn. The Palermo football team lost their most recent match. "I said anything but watercress."

"That was last week."

"No it wasn't."

"Yes it was."

Reborn's face pinches. "..Anything but radishes?"

"Last month."

"Shit. I'm getting old. Anything but— whatever it is that you're hauling in this week. I can't be bothered to keep track."

"Even though you live in my house, use my facilities, and eat my food?" Tsunayoshi's smile slants with his head, tipped sideways with no animosity.

Okay, maybe a little animosity, but only barely. Somehow he manages to look as though he's known Reborn for 3 centuries instead of 3 months.

Sometimes Reborn forgets that, too. That he's only known this Sawada Tsunayoshi for 3 months.

"I'll help clean up later." He won't. He'll forget. He always forgets. "Anyway, I already told you I'm not going to be switched out or anything. I'm here until my task is completed or is unable to be completed. Namely, until either of us dies."

"That's quite specific." Tsunayoshi leans over and grabs the mug of coffee. Reborn narrows his eyes. "Personal experience?"

"I refused the job, once. Actually, I refused it many times, but one of them in particular was rather..." He grimaces. "..Twisted."

"How so?"

"As in, refuse me and die."

Tsunayoshi chuckles. It's infuriating. "That sounds like typical mafia to me."

"Typical mafia wouldn't have killed me on the spot," Reborn grunts. "Typical mafia would've let me live. Typical mafia would have broken off my contract with Vongola and set me loose, set dogs on me, banished me from the Underworld. Typical mafia would have died trying to ostracize my wonderful self."

"Would they?"

Reborn looks up. Tsunayoshi's head is tipped again, smiling at something he can't see, cradling the mug of coffee like it's his own. Maybe it is.

His hand comes up and Tsunayoshi turns to meet it, letting his fingers trace the gaudy eye-patch over the right side of his face, easy and calm as though it wasn't the first time it happened. It probably isn't.

"That's my doing," Tsunayoshi says. "I told you that already. Remember?"

"Mm." He hooks a finger under the strap and tugs, just gently. Tsunayoshi's hand on his wrist stops him from pulling it down. "Remind me again?"

"My name is Sawada Tsunayoshi," the man says, in the same voice and tone and intent as he did the first time Reborn asked. The first time he heard about the other ones, the boys in Reborn's memories, the dead and the not forgotten. Reborn wonders if Tsunayoshi ever considers them his past lives. "I am 29 years old. I was home-schooled by my mother, Nana. I don't know where she is or what her name is now. My father is dead, probably. The mafia killed him. A blood clot took my left eye. A friend received my right. We are in Namimori, Japan. I was born here and have lived here my entire life. My hobbies are gardening and taking walks around town. I am allergic to seafood, which is fine, because I never liked shellfish anyway. I do wish I could eat sushi, though."

"You're allergic to cats," Reborn says. "True or false?"

"False. I have one, actually. Well, she belonged to someone else, but they're not here to care for her anymore, so she's mine."

"You like dogs."

"True. Have one of those, too. Again, used to be someone else's. His father comes by sometimes."

"The mafia has a vested interest in you."

"True. More or less."

"You are the next heir to Vongola."

"Once upon a time." Reborn finally drops his hand and Tsunayoshi lets go of his wrist to snatch the newspaper instead. "My father got in their way. Now, they just want to keep me from doing the same thing. Which is what you're here for, Reborn."

"I was still reading that." He makes no move to take it back, though, because the coffee is now free and he'll take coffee over news from Italy any day. "You're too old to change the way they'd want you to change."

"Then that just leaves the other option, doesn't it?" Tsunayoshi smiles, like he knows what the other option is and he doesn't care. Reborn wouldn't be surprised if he did. Know. And didn't care. "Technically it comes in my name, so it's my paper. Ah, what a shame. Giudice Calogero de Rege [1]was ousted for corruption. That's the 4th one this week... Have you heard of him?"

"A righteous fuck if I ever knew one. Glad he's gone. Not dead though? He should be dead soon." Christ, he hates Italy. Not that Sicily has ever been any better with the non-corrupt politicians, but at least Sicily has always been neck deep in the shit and comfortable with it. At least they were part of it. Not Italy. Italy just gets bought out and bribed. Frankly, it's disgusting. "I think I have more than just those two options."

"Mukuro's coming by." Tsunayoshi turns the paper around and taps to a small, tiny article about a prison break from the Real Cittadella of Messina.[2] "I think he'll be bringing friends. You haven't met him yet, have you? It's been a while since he or Chrome were last here."

"Not this one. Probably." Reborn takes this chance to make a grab for it, flipping back to the sports section. "I thought you couldn't read? You're.. blind."

"Haven't we gone over this already?" Tsunayoshi trades the newspaper for the coffee and drains what remains of it. The Flame on his head still burns bright, and his one remaining eye shimmers a pale, milky orange. A blood moon behind clouds. "I can do anything with my Dying Will, Reborn."

"Then so I can I." His eyes follow when Tsunayoshi stands, mug in hand, shuffling for the hallway in his own silk robe and fuzzy slippers. Red and yellow. Gold. "Changing you or killing you aren't my only choices. Didn't I say that already, too?"

"Three days after you arrived. I'm getting some more coffee for you. Did you want anything else? A snack?"

"All you have are kale chips and carrot sticks."

"You don't like those?"

"Carrots never did sit right with me." Reborn gives pause for a moment. "...I don't know if it's physical or psychological, though."

"I get that way with bananas. Kale chips?"

He starts to nod. Then stops and looks up again, taking his eyes off of the obituaries, trying to find any names he might recognize. And then he stands.

"..I can get the coffee myself, Tsunayoshi."

His knuckles brush against Tsunayoshi's when he takes the mug. Their fingers hook together as it changes hands, lingering, but not demanding.

"What's this, then?" Tsunayoshi asks, softly, head turned just slightly in Reborn's direction.

He doesn't meet Reborn's eyes, and Reborn has gotten used to the way Tsunayoshi seems to stare off into the distance, looking at nothing, because that is probably what he sees. Nothing.

Everything.

"A third option," Reborn answers. "You, dear one." [3]

He does look up, then. In every world, in every instance, Reborn will always be taller. Except in those where his body is still trapped as an infant, he will always tower over Sawada Tsunayoshi, and Sawada Tsunayoshi will always have to crane his neck to look at Reborn directly.

Tsunayoshi's untangles their fingers and brings his hand up. He already knows how they feel against his skin. Sometimes he gets fevers and sometimes Tsunayoshi checks his temperature. Sometimes Reborn lets his guard down.

He gets a pat on the cheek instead, and a cheeky smile.

"You're far too old for me, Reborn." Tsunayoshi brushes by him with a hum, dancing down the hall and up the stairs. "Help yourself to the kitchen. I've already had lunch, so I'm going to do some yardwork until dinner."

"Mm," Reborn says, and brings the mug up to his lips while he reads the lines and curves of the other man's form. Young, slight. So much potential. Always so much potential.

He blinks, and then looks down. Ah. Right. He was going to get more coffee.

/ / / / / / / / /

Later, over a robust dinner of steak and stir-fried vegetables, Reborn posits:

"True or false. You're going to destroy Vongola."

And Sawada Tsunayoshi, he laughs. Laughs like he's with his friends and has just heard the best joke in the world. Laughs like he does when Nana calls, as she does, once every few months, or so he says. Laughs like the world is about to end and he's always known this was coming, this question, this answer.

He laughs.

"Haven't I, already?"

And Reborn, despite himself,

he smiles.

/ / / / / / / / /

Maybe in one world, they will be equals.

* * *

[1] giudice: judge  
[2] Real Cittadella: technically turned into a military base after the 1869s, and then into a warehouse after the 1908 earthquake. not in this world.  
[3] he uses 'anata', which literally means 'you' but is also used by couples in the sense of 'honey' or 'dear'.


	2. Chapter 2: day 0

**Warnings:** none.

 **Summary:  
** When Reborn says, _You can do it, Sawada Tsunayoshi_ , he always means it. Because this is not the first obstacle, nor the first time.

 _You can do it. You have to. The others did, so you must._

* * *

/ / / / / / / / /

 **churn the soil, till the fields**

/ / / / / / / / /

Sawada Tsunayoshi. Age 19. Identifies as male. 158cm, 50kg. Brown-haired. Brown eyes.

Home-schooled. Grades filed are average, lenient. No specialties, no particular skills or hobbies. Not athletic, not studious, not outgoing.

"There's a lot of things he's _not_ , Leon," Reborn mutters to the chameleon lounging on the window sill. He wishes he could do the same. Lounge about and fall asleep to the sound of rickety wheels going over train tracks. "And not a lot of what he _is_."

Leon's tongue flicks out lazily.

"..You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

The slightly wriggling of his green body seems to suggest that Leon wants Reborn to shut up. Reborn pokes him in the side instead.

"I bet you don't even remember what he was like before," he says, prodding at Leon's tail until it curls around his finger. "Checkerface never mentioned if you'd remember with us, and I never thought to ask it of him... Well, we only see him once every lifetime and we're too busy yelling at him to ask any real questions before it's, _poof_ , off to the next one."

Reborn flips through the sheaf of papers, each one containing photo prints of what he can only see as a young, college-bound Sawada Tsunayoshi, captions and notes scrawled on and around them. Some of the photos had other people in them. People that Reborn recognizes.

Hayato. Takeshi. Ryouhei. The first two are circled in red. Ryouhei has a question mark next to his. Miura Haru's face is also visible in one of the photos, and were Reborn a lesser man, were he not already familiar with the chance that she would get involved with things like mafia for the sake of puppy love, he would have balked. But he is not, so he does not.

He takes in her stern countenance, the lack of any marks next to her appearance, and turns the page.

Strangely enough, there is no sign of Hibari Kyouya anywhere in the file. Reborn finds that more odd than he does the fact that Hayato shouldn't have any reason to go to Japan, unless he had already been sent there on a separate job. If there's anything he has learned through the Cycles, it's that the stronger emotions like devotion remain very nearly universal.

Kyouya's unwavering desire not to work with anyone is probably about as strong as his desire to do whatever the hell he wants, meaning that without some catalyst to bring the two together, Reborn doubts he'll be seeing much of _that_ Cloud in this Cycle.

It won't be too unfamiliar territory, though. Sometimes Kyouya is born too soon, or too late. Sometimes born elsewhere. Sometimes Reborn has to make do with another of Tsunayoshi's classmates. Sometimes his former bullies turn out to be quite the allies, when put in a properly _persuasive_ environment. Reborn just might have to do the same thing here.

..Assuming that his task is to _train_ the young man, that is.

There are also notes on suspicious movements and persons in the surrounding area, including one whose face eludes cameras and hacked CCTV footage. There's even a clipping of news about a jailbreak from a high-security Italian prison 12 years ago, and doesn't that just sound marvelous? There's the old Kokuyo gang again. Well, Mukuro's gang. They don't always transfer to Kokuyo. Why did they ever even do that in the first place? They could have just transferred straight into Namimori.

Ah, well, Kyouya's reign over the school board probably would prevent most strange Italian transferees who were definitely not the right age. Kokuyo is such a mess, really.

Reborn flips through the rest of the papers but there's nothing else that catches his eye. Not even the scribbled note (in his handwriting, no less) about ties to a strange organization, bodies coming and going, a weird neighborhood where nothing goes amiss. Namimori's always been like that and the Hibaris are always up to _something_. This is why attaching himself to Tsunayoshi is always so fun, every time.

Watching the boy's life go from 0 to 100 before he can even blink is such a rush. Watching him _change_ , watching him grow, watching him gain friends he will probably always gain, learn things he will probably always learn, defeat enemies he will probably always defeat.

When Reborn says, _You can do it, Sawada Tsunayoshi_ , he always means it. Because this is not the first obstacle, nor the first time. There has always been one before who did the same, who was just as not-athletic and pathetic and who still climbed this very cliffside. There has always been one who destroyed this very same mountain in a fight with Xanxus. There has always been one. There has always been another.

 _You can do it. You have to. The others did, so you must._

"How many lives do you think I've ruined like this, Leon?" He asks, expecting no answer. Leon's tail still hasn't let go of his finger, so now he's trying to turn the pages with a chameleon clinging to his hand. Leon is lucky he doesn't weigh much. "The Mare rings have some precedence about the existence of parallel worlds. Maybe we haven't just been repeating the same life over and over. Well, maybe _I_ haven't. You probably don't know just how many times I've ranted at you like this. I'm starting to feel like a madman."

Leon rubs his cheek against the back of Reborn's hand. Always so sleepy. Reborn's kind of glad there's no one else sitting near him to listen to his rambling.

" _Not_ being the one who train him doesn't ever end well, either. But, I do wonder why it's always him. Why is it never one of Timoteo's children? Every time I wake up again, it's always _him_."

He flips back to the first page, where Tsunayoshi's headshot stares up at him. Budding college student. No mention of going to college, though. Or if he's working, or who he's living with, where he is, exactly. Just 'Namimori, Japan'.

"I've lived dozens of lifetimes with you, Tsunayoshi," Reborn says to the photo quietly, fiddling with a corner of it. "What makes you so special?"

He sighs. No use thinking about it now. There will be time for that later. And if not later, then next time. And the next.

And the next.

Reborn reaches up to set Leon down and join him in a nap, except—

"...Where's my hat?"

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

He arrives, sans hat, at the doorstep of the usual Sawada residence.

It's turned into quite a quaint little thing in the few years from when he's supposed to arrive. Whether the house has always been like this, or if it's been recently remodeled, he can't tell. There's vines and creepers on every wall, covering any age or weathering that would otherwise be evident.

In fact, it almost looks like no one has lived here for years.

Almost. Except for that flower basket hanging from the roof of the entrance, not yet overgrown. He has to duck around it, with how low it hangs. Or how tall he stands, rather.

No one answers the door when he rings it though. Or when he knocks. No one is in the kitchen when he peers through the window, and there's no movement from the upstairs one where Tsunayoshi's bedroom should be.

Hm. Maybe it's the wrong house. But the nameplate _does_ say Sawada on it...

"..Hello?"

The voice comes from the left, around the corner of the house. If memory serves, the back porch and yard is on that side.

Reborn looks, but no one's there.

"Hello?" He says back, squinting at that corner of the building. Wonders if it's worth it to step off the cobblestone and into the sprawling garden lining the path.

"Who's there?"

How is he supposed to answer that? Is he even still 'Reborn' in this world? Is he as well known as he is in some, or completely under the radar like in others? Is he a celebrity?

Shit. Should he have gotten a hat after all?

"I'm looking for Sawada Tsunayoshi."

A sunhat pops up from behind the bushes, attached to the head of a rather short figure. Short compared to Reborn's height, at least.

"That's me." One eye peers at him from under the brim, the other covered by a leather eye-cap. He's very.. familiar. Oh- right, he just said— "Who are you?"

Reborn opens his mouth. Looks down at the very new-looking photo in the folder in his hands that he probably should not be holding in plain sight like this. And closes his mouth.

"..You're not 19 years old." That's a very distinct lack of babyfat on those cheeks. Maybe he's just been in the sun too long, though. "Are you?"

A puzzled look crosses the other's face. Reborn definitely recognizes that. "Um. No. I'm... turning 30 this year."

"Ah." Reborn frowns and snaps the folder shut. "My mistake."

"Oh, but I _am_ Sawada—"

" _My mistake_ ," he repeats. He's about to say something about how _fetching_ Tsunayoshi looks, tanned and sweaty in plaid and denim and a smidgen of dirt along his jaw— "Excuse my intrusion."

Reborn doesn't see the way Tsunayoshi's eyes do not follow him as he leaves.

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

"The information you gave me is outdated," Reborn drawls into the payphone without even a greeting. A rare thing in Japan, these days, but he'd rather not have any record of a private call going international. How nice that Namimori still has one, right where it's always been. "Did you know that?"

 _"Well, yes. You knew that too. All of it is projected from our most up-to-date source. It's no more than a few years old."_

Wow. Timoteo sounds young. If his name is still Timoteo in this Cycle. Is this even Timoteo? Doesn't Vongola ever change their main phone line number?

"He says he's turning 30 this year. That is _far more_ than a few years. Where did we even get this information from? What's missing? Is he making a nuclear bombs in his basement?"

 _"It's from whatever Iemitsu left behind, obviously. So he's closer to your age, so what? Sleep with him a few times if you have to. I know you probably will anyway."_ That is not helping, Timmy. Probably-Timmy. Reborn scowls at the people staring at him as they walk by. _"The job still stands. He's getting in the way, just like his father._ _ **Take care of it**_ _."_

Man, he remembers how brash Timoteo used to be at this age. It's been a long time since he's had to deal with it though. Many, many, _many_ lifetimes ago.

"There aren't that many options at this point, are there?"

 _"You're the World's Greatest Hitman, aren't you?"_ That _sounds_ like a grin. Or a laugh, at least. _"I'm sure you'll find a way."_

"..Fine," Reborn sighs. "But I'm going into this blind. The payment better match once it's done. And don't blame me if it doesn't go exactly the way you'd like it."

The other person (probably a very, very young Timoteo, though the chances of that are dwindling with each word uttered) hangs up without much ado.

There is a part that Reborn does not enjoy about a new Cycle, and that is finding his place in it each and every time. His reputation, his loyalties, where he stands with every person he has ever met or ever will meet. What he means or ever meant to anyone.

From that conversation he has learned many things. Something is wrong with Iemitsu, obviously; one does not underguess their son's age by an entire decade for no good reason. Not to mention even that information is _out of date_. CEDEF is never _out of date_.

Something is also wrong with Timoteo. Although, it could just be that he is a different age in this Cycle, and has only taken over Vongola recently. Assuming, of course, that his personality will take the same turn as all the other ones have. Brash and snarly and cocky in the beginning, then old and sly and wily as he gets on in years. How young is he now? ..Is he younger than Tsunayoshi?

And that remark about— dear _Christ_ in Heaven, please say they haven't—

"Leon." He brings the chameleon to eye-level from where he had been hiding in Reborn's breast pocket. "Do you, by any chance, know if I've slept with Timoteo this time around?"

Leon looks outright _horrified_.

"I'll take that as a no." Reborn brings the reptile closer and cradles the frozen critter against his chest, stroking his head and body gently. "There there. I'm sorry for possibly traumatizing your poor little shape-changing mind. Though I don't know how long that memory will stay there, anyway. Chameleons are only supposed to live 4 years at the most. Do you get a new brain every 4 years? Will you forget my face if I leave you alone long enough?"

His finger feels cold. And wet.

"Leon, stop trying to chew on my hand. You don't have any teeth."

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

Tsunayoshi is sitting out on the front porch when Reborn comes by again later that evening.

He wasn't expecting to stop. Just pass by, glance in, take a look around and see if there's any places he can camp out to collect more information before approaching directly again.

Tsunayoshi is the one who grabs onto his wrist. He's not wearing the plaid and denim anymore. Instead he seems to have been lounging in a rumpled white button-up and—

Please don't let those be mom jeans.

"Are you Reborn?" he asks, tugging. He's looking at something behind Reborn, steady and unwavering. "They said you might come to find me one day. Sorry I didn't recognize you earlier."

"Did they," Reborn says blandly, wondering what the other man is looking at. A glance over his shoulder shows nothing interesting. Just another house, another wall. Maybe that odd looking calico cat? She's staring at him rather intently. Them. Maybe. "..How did you recognize me?"

"Um.. the hat?"

"I'm not wearing a hat."

Tsunayoshi blinks. "Oh."

Reborn leans over, closer. Peers into the eye that still looks past him even when he's _right there_.

"Oh," he says, dumbly, and then jerks back slightly when Tsunayoshi seems to startle from the sudden closeness. "..Okay then. I'll ask that again. How did you know it was me?"

"...Intuition?"

That's... yeah. Sure. He'll buy that.

"Do you use that line every time you grab onto a guy walking past your house?"

"It _works_ every time," Tsunayoshi says, flat and toneless. He starts tugging on Reborn's wrist again. "Want to come inside?"

"You're inviting me in just like that?" Reborn resists the urge to blanch, out of fear for his own reputation. Then he remembers that Tsunayoshi is probably blind. "What are you, a lemming?"

"Only if you're actually planning to kill me." Tsunayoshi looks up at him, and for a moment, Reborn wishes he wasn't blind. "You're not, right?"

Because Reborn doesn't know how to put into words just _how much_ he would never think about killing Tsunayoshi. Not now. Not ever. Not unless there was no other choice, no other way, nothing else they could do. Not unless there was no other way to save him.

(But, Reborn is quite selfish and arrogant in that sense. He thinks he _is_ the way to save him. That this is the way to salvation. This path. This choice.)

"No," he says, and hopes his voice doesn't sound as choked as it feels. "I'm not."

"Then you're very welcome to come into my house." Tsunayoshi's nose scrunches up. "Although, you're really late. The others have already visited _years_ ago. You're the last one, supposedly."

"What others?" Wait a minute— "Who told you I'd be looking for you?"

"Well." Tsunayoshi finally gets him past the gate, and Reborn takes the folded up lawn chair as they head for the front door. "Luce dropped in first when I was 15 and kept pinching my cheeks. Fon comes by often for tea. Skull taught me how to ride a motorcycle when I was 16. He tried to buy one for me, too, but Kyouya's always coming by and threatening to smash them because they're too loud. And then—"

Reborn stares at Tsunayoshi so hard that his head knocks into the flower basket hanging by the door.

* * *

i got weirdly attached to this jumbled mess of writing and cannot leave it alone.


	3. Chapter 3: day 16-20

**Summary:**  
Reborn rather enjoys the sight of Tsunayoshi's sleeves rolled up to his elbows, especially coupled with the thought that he's digging graves for the dead in broad daylight.

 **Warnings:** i'd say T for things being discussed, but nothing explicit. dirty humor. some angst, implications of past suicide. please don't google sex dungeon. it's exactly what it sounds like.

 **A/N:** i sure am purposefully writing these out of chronological order, yes i am. also went back and added in days for the prev parts. 1 is day 94, 2 is day 0.

* * *

/ / / / / / / / /

 **a field of white chrysanthemums would not be enough**

/ / / / / / / / /

Reborn accidentally finds the switch to some secret doorway while rummaging around in the kitchen cabinets to see if Tsunayoshi has any other brands of coffee beans. It's a small, flat, wooden panel that he kind of hoped was going to open up a hidden pantry full of non-homegrown foods or actual junk food. Or more coffee.

Instead he hears a loud, grinding sound from the hallway. When he sticks his head out for a peek, rather than the door to a junior high student's magical trove of limited edition snacks, he finds that a closet down the ways has turned into a set of stairs. It doesn't seem to lead anywhere but down into the deep, dark abyss underneath the building.

"When did you get a basement?" he asks when Tsunayoshi pops in to investigate the noise.

"I had it remodeled back in '09, so.. about 10 years now?" Tsunayoshi thinks on it for a moment, then shrugs, crosses his arms, and leans in the doorway. "We needed a base of operations instead of meeting up in dingy pubs and dark alleys."

Reborn hopes it's a great show of trust that he flips the switch again, rather than diving in feet first, and watches the wall of the closet swivel out with a horrifyingly screechy grinding noise, quickly replaced with a normal closet door. He'd very much like to explore. The other ones never had a secret basement. Or any basement at all.

"..Who's we?"

"It's a sex dungeon, Reborn."

Reborn stares after the sing-songing form as Tsunayoshi traipses back out into the yard.

Now he really wants to explore. The other ones definitely never had a sex dungeon. Even after they were old enough to reasonably have one built.

It's probably not actually a sex dungeon, though.

He still wants to see it.

/ / / / / / / / /

"When do I get to see your sex dungeon?" Reborn calls down the stairs. Tsunayoshi stiffens on one of the stone steps without looking up, though the Flame on his forehead is lit bright and Reborn doesn't doubt that Tsunayoshi could see him if he wanted to.

"..Are you ready to see my sex dungeon?"

Reborn wants to say he's been ready for possibly the past 12 Cycles, but the words dry up like sand in his mouth. Tsunayoshi is wearing his mom jeans again. It's a little hard to concentrate.

"Maybe next time," he says instead, coughing. "Have fun down there. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"What exactly wouldn't you do, Reborn?"

"..Nothing, actually. There's nothing I wouldn't do. I'm old and filthy and one day I will join you in your sinful ways."

Tsunayoshi lets out a giggling snort of laughter that sends him careening into the side of the passageway to keep from tumbling down the steps.

"Do you need a cane, Tsunayoshi? I can grab a cane for you. Why aren't you using a cane anyway?"

"Do that and you'll be the first one I use it on."

"Kinky."

/ / / / / / / / /

The look on Tsunayoshi's face when Reborn presents him with a walking cane 2 days later is quite priceless. Watching the younger man pluck at the bow on the end is even better.

He spins it around a few times, surprisingly agile and graceful, and then smacks the thinner end against the palm of his other hand.

Reborn feels certain parts of him jumping to attention. His eyebrows are one of them.

Tsunayoshi blinks and tilts his head in a way that suggests he actually knows what just happened regarding Reborn's bodily reactions.

"I may not be able to see everything," he says, "but I can certainly see Flames flaring in response to physical arousal."

"I'm not aroused," Reborn shoots back with no real feeling behind it.

The walking cane raps against Tsunayoshi's palm a few more times and he hums, a low and distinct. Reborn shifts in his seat. He doesn't deny it this time.

Then Tsunayoshi shoulders the cane like a shinai, tapping it against his shoulder as he saunters back out into the yard. Jesus, does he ever do anything except work in the garden and disappear into his sex-dungeon-slash-possible-secret-meeting-place for hours on end?

It is so very odd to be around a Tsunayoshi that doesn't fear him. Oh, Reborn could make him feel fear. It wouldn't be hard. Just drop a few comments about a possible kill request, flash his gun (his actual gun), make some morbid remarks that he'd gotten into the habit of making about 10 Cycles in. Hover over his shoulder. Be his usual menacing self.

But this one has a very odd sort of past time and is always digging new flower beds and compost piles, and other deep, vaguely human-sized pits. He's added 3 more plots in the two weeks since Reborn's arrival. 2 rows for snap peas and 1 to transplant his supposedly blood-red bell pepper sprouts into.

Everything tastes just fine.

And besides, Reborn rather enjoys the sight of Tsunayoshi's sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Especially when it's coupled with the thought that he's digging graves for the dead in broad daylight.

/ / / / / / / / /

Whenever Tsunayoshi is busy outside, Reborn scours the house for any other hidden mechanisms and trick walls, secret doors, false fireplaces.

One day, he manages to pull out half of the bookshelf before he's distracted.

"The author never finished the series in any of the other Cycles," Reborn mutters when Tsunayoshi makes a questioning sort of sound at finding him surrounded by a mess of novels and veritable tomes. "I've been dying to read the last installment."

Tsunayoshi crouches down, and it's a testament to how engrossed Reborn is that he doesn't even react to how close Tsunayoshi is when he reaches out to brush two fingers along Braille spine of the book in Reborn's hands.

"This is Breaking Dawn," the younger man says, amused. "You went through half of my entire book collection and you're hung up on Twilight?"

"Yes. It's torrid. Kyouko never stops talking about it." He flips the page. "Why do you even have this series?"

"Kyouko never stops talking about it." The use of present tense instead of past tense has Reborn looking up and— wow. He's really close. If he had a hat, he would've knocked Tsunayoshi on the nose just with that movement. "The almanac and the old looking thing open a trap door ladder, in case you were wondering."

And so saying, he pulls on said books until the sound of gears overtakes the tick tock tick tock of the grandfather clock, and, indeed, a ladder descends from a hole that opens up in the ceiling.

"..What's up there?"

"My secret stash of chocolate."

Reborn blinks. "I.. don't like chocolate?"

"I know." Tsunayoshi grabs onto one of the handles and steps onto the lowest rung, pushing the books back into place. The ladder begins reeling itself back upwards. "It's actually a shortcut to my room. I'm going to wash up, and then we can see about going out for dinner?"

"Wait," Reborn calls out with a false sense of urgency, still seated on the floor. "Take me with you!"

Tsunayoshi blows him a kiss, and starts humming the X-Files theme song as the hole in the ceiling swallows him up.

Reborn sighs and leans back in his constructed throne of books, and continues to read. He figures he's got about an hour or so.

/ / / / / / / / /

"That was nice."

"Mm."

"It was.. a nice place."

"..Mm-hm."

"I had a... nice time."

"Reborn, it's not nearly as romantic when we're ultimately going to be heading into the same house instead of holding hands on my doorstep and murmuring sweet nothings to each other because we have to part ways, never to meet again."

"And if we do?"

"Hmm?"

"If we do end up parting ways and never meeting again? Can I hold your hands then?"

"You're being overly dramatic, don't you think? Or just drunk? I think you're drunk. A very, very sentimental drunk."

/ / / / / / / / /

He used to think old age was the trigger for a Cycle to end. His first, the Neo Primo, lived and ruled to a ripe old age— for a mafia boss, anyway. Until Millefiore wiped out Vongola.

The second lasted probably half as long. Millefiore again.

By the sixth, Reborn remembered enough of the time in between to recall the words of the Checkerface. The Man in the Iron Hat.

A Fixed Point In Time. That's what they were, now. That's what they had to be, while the whole Trinisette nonsense was being sorted out. It was the only reason why they hadn't died early, why the pacifiers hadn't transferred over to anyone else. Someone, somewhere, had found a cure. A solution.

The only problem was that someone still had to bear the burden. Some worlds still had to bear the burden.

Well. At least Reborn felt less like a madman after waking up on some moving vehicle bound for Namimori for the 6th time. He stopped calling it alifetime and started using Cycle, because that was how it felt. Waking up and having to do the same thing he'd just done over again, knowing that, at some point, he would wake up at the beginning all over again. Endless.

Sometimes it would be in the middle of the night. Sometimes it would be because he'd been caught off guard by a rival and gunned down. He figures his own death is what triggers the end of one Cycle and the beginning of another, whether through natural death or otherwise.

Then Shimon slaughters everyone at the Vongola Inheritance and Reborn is blinking himself awake in a private jet bound for Japan before they ever reach him. He'd never expected that much of a difference between Cycles. That the issue with Shimon would go so easily unresolved.

The last thing he recalls of that one was Tsunayoshi crumpling into the nothingness of a black hole, and if he did not realize it then, he realized it 2 Cycles later, that in those ones where he would Cycle out in the middle of the night, it was not because he died in his sleep.

It was Tsuna. Either some lucky assassin, or, more often, with his stupid plot to send his past self into the future to defeat Millefiore. His stupid plot that failed, and the wrong bullet would find him, or his replacement would fail and no one would know. No one would know because this world would be destroyed, and then it would be rewound, and Reborn would have to do the same thing all over again and he would never be there when Tsunayoshi put his stupid plan into action.

He stops trying to keep Tsunayoshi from dying after the first dozen or so Cycles. A dozen later, he starts trying again, because holy hell, Tsunayoshi dies way too fast when no one's there to intervene. Bullying, rock slides, Xanxus showing up way too early, Hayato drops his dynamite and Tsunayoshi is just a mite too slow. He and Takeshi jump together and no amount of Dying Will Bullets helps, because they have nothing to regret.

Tsunayoshi slips in the shower once, 3 weeks into his arrival, and Reborn lingers for about 2 minutes after calling an ambulance until the boy bleeds out from a rupture in his brain.

He wakes up wanting to laugh and cry and curse Tsunayoshi's own clumsy luck.

It feels like he's flipping through TV channels after that, trying to find something interesting to settle into and bypassing anything too depressing, too morose, too troublesome.

Reborn doesn't know what triggers the others' Cycles. They don't ever really talk about it, in the time between. Mostly yelling at Checkerface. Skull has it the worst. Reborn stops picking on him after a while, too. He gets it now.

Being kind of immortal.. kind of sucks.

/ / / / / / / / /

Reborn wakes up staring at the wall, snuggled into a bed both familiar and not. The calendar hanging on the wall over a walking cane has little tomatoes drawn into the corner, letting him know which Cycle he's in. Others have been flowers, triangles, squares, circles. Various rhombuses and polygons and mathematical formulas.

A half-naked body crosses in front of him and he finds himself suddenly very much awake.

"Um," he says eloquently. Tsunayoshi doesn't even look startled.

"Finally up? How's junior?"

Reborn sits up, wincing and pinching the bridge of his nose. Ow. Hangovers. "How's.. what?"

"You kept complaining about not being able to sleep after we came home from dinner. Something about your bed being too hard, which is funny, because it's a futon and you picked it out yourself." A sharp snap of cloth and a fluff of air tells him Tsunayoshi found pants. Reborn all but pries his eyes open to watch. Tsunayoshi doesn't seem to mind, if he even notices. "I told you not to come crying to me just because your boner's keeping you up at night, but then you just-"

Tsunayoshi makes a fwump sound and gesture, pantomiming the idea that Reborn had probably waltzed in and collapsed on the bed, dead asleep.

Gee. It's been a while since he last did that. And so shamelessly, too!

"Junior's fine, since you asked." Reborn yawns and scratches at his neck, wincing at the throbbing of his head. Are those painkillers on the nightstand? He hopes they are. He needs some. "I didn't leave Leon at the restaurant, did I?"

"No. You left him downstairs to finish reading Breaking Dawn for you after we came home."

Ah. Reborn nestles back into pillows that are clearly not his, in a bed big enough for 5 that he does not question, watching Tsunayoshi's legs disappear into a pair of denim work pants.

He likes the sound of that.

Home.

/ / / / / / / / /

...He doesn't remember how he managed to convince Tsunayoshi that it would be prudent to have one of those marked calendars in his room, of all places.

If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought Tsunayoshi agreed because he was open to the prospect of Reborn joining him in his bed. But Reborn does know better. They've already shared the too-big bed a few times, before they found the futon shoved into the depths of a closet somewhere.

Reborn is pretty sure Tsunayoshi is just humoring him and his slow descent into madness.

He appreciates the gesture.

* * *

hugs and kisses (and thanks) to all the reviews so far! there's quite a few about how confusing everything is and i agree. hopefully some of it will be cleared up as we go. \o/


	4. Chapter 4: day 3

**Summary:  
** "..I don't want to kill you."

It's a far cry from the first time they'd met. Him and another Tsunayoshi. Neo Primo. The Dying Will Bullet that killed, then resurrected. Or just killed, if no regrets were present.

(If someone shot Reborn with one now, he'd probably die and come back with the regrets of a thousand lives on his lips.)

 **Warnings:** lots of fatalist morbidity. brief, nonchalant suicidal mention. casual talk of murder.

 **A/N:** i guess this is the time to add in 'tsuna is not dame'. gets a little dark and angsty, but this is just one of those quasi-darkangst fluff Groundhog Day type things.

WindmillQuil: actually i had initially intended that it was reborn who was drawing little things in the corner of the calendars, to remind himself which memories belonged to which. but. now you've put in the idea that tsuna could do it to. maybe some worlds reborn draws it, and in others it's tsuna that puts down something that reminds him of reborn. like weird math equations for his weird math-inclined tutor haha.

* * *

/ / / / / / / / /

 **plow the old under, prepare for the new**

/ / / / / / / / /

It's been 3 days and Tsunayoshi has done nothing but work out in the sun, wearing that same sunhat, those same plaids and those same denims. Sometimes the neighbors come by to say hello and sometimes they have items to trade for a sack of Tsunayoshi's homemade pickled vegetables.

There are moments when Reborn wonders if Tsunayoshi has forgotten that he's here. He wouldn't be surprised, given that the other man can't actually _see_ him padding around the house while he's working out there. _Reborn_ even forgets he's here sometimes. Tries to turn down a hallway with no turns, open a door expecting an office but finding only jackets in a closet too large for the rest of the house.

The back yard is especially large. Much larger than Reborn ever remembers it being. And yet Tsunayoshi moves across it with ease.

"He doesn't need me here, Leon," Reborn murmurs to the reptile on his shoulder. They're in the living room, watching Tsunayoshi work through the open door that leads to the back yard and patio. "I wasn't sent here to teach him. Or change him."

The folders said a lot about what he _wasn't_. He didn't leave the house much, except occasionally for groceries or supplies. He didn't stay indoors much, except to eat or to sleep. He usually had a dog, except when the dog's actual (other?) owner would take him away for days, or weeks.

He has a cat, but it's never around, except to eat.

He lives alone, except when he has company that leaves but never arrives, or arrives but never leaves.

He's interfering with Vongola's business and he needs to be removed.

"I'm not going to kill him." He takes his eyes away from the doorway that leads to what may well be the Garden of Eden.

(Does that make Tsunayoshi Adam, or Eve? Or is he the serpent, whispering promises and lies? Or the apple, temptation incarnate?)

"I swore it once. Even if it's in the past, I'm not going to break an Oath."

Leon licks his cheek understandingly. Reborn doubts he actually _knows_ , but Leon has always been understanding in every Cycle. Sometimes he wonders.

"Do you miss the Neo Primo, Leon?" Reborn muses, taking the chance to kick his feet onto the coffee table while Tsunayoshi isn't looking. Not that it would matter if he was. "I bet you don't. Can't miss someone you've never known."

Can he? Miss someone he's never known. Does he miss all the ones that died too soon, before they could go from Decimo to Neo Primo? Does he miss the ones who refused and remained Decimo?

"I do. Tsunayoshi grows up to be a tetchy old man, did you know? He probably wasn't even that old. Maybe 40, 50 at the most, if I remember right. Still put up with having an infant riding around on his shoulder."

He had wondered, at the time, why the Arcobaleno curse wasn't killing them off. Had known all along that his days were numbered, that he would die a dog's death, when the time came.

The time never came. He kept living. Kept killing.

Neo Primo would look at him, sometimes in pity. And where Reborn would once scold him or rebuke him, maybe even smack that silly expression of his face, sometimes he would do nothing.

Sometimes they sat in front of the fireplace together and said nothing, while the world fell down around their ears.

(And then Neo Primo would have to go stop his guardians from destroying the compound and Reborn would go back to hunting down traitors, as usual. Like nothing ever happened. Until the next time it did.)

"It's odd not doing anything," he says, quietly now. Leon crawls onto his finger and stares up at him, eyes unblinking. "Even more odd that I haven't Cycled out yet, even though I'm not needed around here... But do I want to wait around for it to happen eventually?"

Leon's head tilts.

"I've never tried killing myself to get out of a Cycle before."

Not even the ones where he wasn't interested. He still stuck around, just to see what would happen if he didn't intervene. How Iemitsu would handle his son's training, how an oddly grownup Basil might. If Tsunayoshi was tossed into the Varia and made to carve a bloody path to the throne.

(He'd won that one. But a Vongola divided falls easily as prey to other predators.)

"I guess I could just enjoy myself while I'm here. Drop by Vongola and see how they're holding up, try to see where the others have gotten to.. maybe Checkerface still lives in Namimori somewhere." Reborn waggles his finger and Leon's head bobs up and down with the motion, tail curled tight around his wrist. "I could sleep with him before we head off. Timoteo did say it'd be fine if I did, _and_ he's old enough, for once. I don't know about you, Leon, but I haven't had sex since this whole Trinisette affair started. Honestly I'm surprised I haven't gotten blue—"

He stiffens and sits up. Turns around.

And there is Tsunayoshi, standing right there with a basket of produce in his arms and a strangely curious look on his face.

 _How long have you been standing there,_ Reborn wants to ask.

Instead he says, "We need to talk."

/ / / / / / / / /

Tsunayoshi fidgets on the couch. He has calluses, Reborn notes. Despite the gloves and everything, he has calluses. Tsunayoshi would never really get them in the previous Cycles, not after the cliff climbing. Blisters, sure. On his knuckles, on his knees, on his elbows. On any part of his body that he used regularly to fight with. No calluses, though. Not like the ones Reborn would always have, on his palms and on the back of his index finger.

Rough, not slender. Working hands. Not quite the kind you would see on a pampered mafia boss. Aside from the occasional writing callus from signing too many papers.

Tsunayoshi fidgets. Reborn notices this all the more because his head stays almost absolutely still, where normally it should have bobbed, twitched, looked around nervous and apprehensive. Instead he holds so still that Reborn almost thinks him calm, if not for the furrow in his brow and the downturn of his mouth.

"It's been 3 days," Reborn says, slowly. Tsunayoshi's head dips down just slightly. "..You haven't asked anything about me."

"I don't need to," Tsunayoshi says back. Somehow, Reborn understands that sentiment. "You haven't asked anything about _me_ , either."

"I've never needed to, but I'm beginning to think I should have." He pauses. "You're.. different."

"That's the most cliche pick-up line anyone has ever said to me before," Tsunayoshi mutters under his breath. "..Actually, that's probably the _only_ pickup line anyone has ever said to me before."

"Really?"

"If you haven't noticed, I don't go out very often. And I was average enough as a kid that about the only ones who said anything nice to me were my parents." He shrugs a shoulder. "I wouldn't be able to appreciate my own looks anyway."

"I didn't say anything about how you looked. I meant you. _You're_ different."

Tsunayoshi does that thing where he tilts his head, like a confused little critter, except it's all the more odd and endearing because he doesn't actually _look_ at Reborn when he does it.

"..Different from what exactly?"

Hoooboy.

"From the others that I've known. From..."

He's trying to figure out _how_ exactly to explain this when Tsunayoshi says:

"The other Tsunas in the other worlds?"

Now it's Reborn's turn to blink. "..From the parallel worlds, yes. How do you—"

"I told you, your friends have been visiting for a while now. They talk a lot."

Well, that.. helps. A bit. Less that he has to explain, anyway. Assuming Tsunayoshi doesn't think it's all a bunch of horsecrap.

"And you actually believe it?"

"Not at first... I mean, I _was_ 15 when Luce talked about it. And not the science-nerd sort of 15, either. The scrawny, softspoken, kid on the corner with nails and teeth sort of 15. I wasn't really the type to believe in that kind of thing."

"And yet..?"

"..They all kept saying it. Over and over." Tsunayoshi fiddles with his hands again, fingers laced together, running his thumb over his skin. He's always done that. "It.. kind of got to the point where I wasn't sure if I was just sick of listening to them talk about it, or if I wished I could do the same thing. Go to all these different.. _worlds_ , see what my other lives were like."

"Nothing worth seeing," Reborn says. He feels sure of this, for some reason. "Believe me. You don't usually live this long in the others."

"Oh." Tsunayoshi makes a quiet sound, like he wasn't expecting that. Reborn doubts the other Arcobaleno ever considered touching on the fact that, with one world's Tsunayoshi being the key to defeating Byakuran, any other world that deviated from it was as good as fucked over.

..Actually, Reborn isn't going to touch on that either. Not unless Byakuran actually shows up again and tries to take over the world once more.

"Is.. that all you wanted to talk about?"

"No, not really. Sort of." He rubs at his chin. Leon peers up at him from the coffee table. "..What do you know about your father's job?"

"Mafia," Tsunayoshi says, neither too quickly nor too slowly. Reborn looks up into hardened eyes. "Vongola. He's... he's dead now."

Reborn lets out a little incredulous 'huh'. He wasn't really expecting that. Sort of, but not really.

He clears his throat and swears he can see Leon shaking his little head. "I'm.. also mafia. More specifically, mafia-contracted. I think. Currently working for Vongola, probably. Usually am."

Leon is still shaking his head. That's odd. Then again, maybe Leon knows something that Reborn doesn't. Assuming this Leon isn't _his_ original reptilian partner, and belongs instead to the Reborn of this world...

He wonders if this world's Reborn was much different. Maybe he should explain things properly to Leon. The chameleon is pretty smart though, for all that he is little more than a shape-changing magical reptile powered by Sun Flames.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Tsunayoshi," he says. When he finally looks away from Leon, it's to look into the suddenly very wide and upset eyes of a boy he was supposed to have started looking after more than a decade earlier. "I-"

"Reborn." The whisper is quiet, and Tsunayoshi still isn't _quite_ looking at him, but rather somewhere in the direction of his chest, where a pacifier no longer rests. He wonders why Tsunayoshi doesn't simply keep his eyes shut, or wear sunglasses. "As in.. _Renato_? _That_ Reborn?"

He doesn't respond, shoulders drawing tight as his earlier conversation with Timoteo (probably Timoteo, probably not) replays itself in his mind.

Oh.

"That... you're- you're a hitman. You're _that_ hitman, you're— _Vongola_ —"

Upset turns to anger and anger into fury. A Dying Will Flame lights itself on Tsunayoshi's forehead. It flares, pulses, spreads around them like a warning beacon and a _welcome home_ all at once.

 _Oh._

Tsunayoshi snarls and leaps at Reborn across the table, all teeth and nails and a bright, coppery eye.

" **You're the one who killed my father—!** "

So _this_ is his place in this world.

/ / / / / / / / /

The ensuing fight is more of a scuffle. Reborn is trained, experienced, though he hasn't fought _properly_ in at least 7 Cycles now, and only every few Cycles before that. Muscle memory is a blessing, and so is being able to use his Flames as freely as ever before.

Tsunayoshi is younger, more energetic, has been doing minor physical labor far more frequently than Reborn has. He fights like a scrapper, like a kid on the streets with no weapons but his own body and no teacher but himself. He is blind.

Or he's supposed to be blind.

As it is, the younger man lands punches with unerring accuracy. Add that to the fact that his physical strength is enhanced in Dying Will Mode, and Reborn ends up with a few more bruises and split lips than he normally would.

At any other time, in any other situation, Tsunayoshi would be faring just as well. But Reborn isn't looking to hurt him, has no reason to, and he most _certainly_ does not want to kill him.

So it ends with Reborn pinning him to the floor, both arms locked behind his back, trapping both legs with his own in a position that would be otherwise very compromising. He licks the blood away from the split in his lip as it heals and barely holds back an adrenaline-fueled grin.

Tsunayoshi seethes through a bloody nose from being (accidentally) elbowed in the face, but is otherwise uninjured.

"That's longer than 5 minutes," Reborn notes as the seconds tick by. The Flame on Tsunayoshi's forehead remains where it is, flickering and smelling of heat and a scorching desert. Flickering like it belongs there, like it had never left.

"Iemitsu taught me how to control it," the other man spits out. "Before you _killed him_."

 _'What Iemitsu left behind,'_ probably-Timoteo had said. ' _He's getting in the way, just like this father.'_

 _'Take care of it.'_

He actually thought he was being given options as to how.

"Is that what you're here for?" Tsunayoshi hisses into the wooden floor. Maybe it would have been better to pin him against one of the rugs. Comfier. Though they'd risk rug burns and might get weird looks next time Tsunayoshi is in town. "You're going to kill me too?"

"No, I'm not. I told you that already. Now, if I let you go, will you stop trying to rip off my sideburns?"

"Your what?"

"My sideburns. They're curly and next to my ears."

"..I thought those were earrings."

"Why would you think—" Hurgh, right. He keeps forgetting. "You shouldn't be ripping earrings out either. Is that a yes to keeping your hands off?"

"I still have teeth." But Tsunayoshi nods, if slightly.

" _Please_ , I prefer teeth." Reborn rolls his eyes and eases himself off of the younger, smaller man so he can sit up. "I'd be impressed if you even managed to get close enough for a proper bite."

"I managed a black eye and probably broke something in your mouth." Tsunayoshi licks the blood from his lips, then presses the corner of his shirt against his nose to sop up the blood and hopefully stopper it too. "I could manage a bite or two."

Reborn tongues at a loose tooth thoughtfully.

"How _did_ you manage to aim that well, anyway? If I'm not mistaken you've lost sight in at _least_ one eye, you should have crippling depth perception."

The one visible eye actually _moves_ for the second time Reborn has seen in the past 3 days. The first was when Tsunayoshi socked him in the jaw. He had pegged it as just his imagination, seeing things that weren't actually there so that it made more sense in his mind. Things like aiming a punch without looking in the same direction.

"I am, actually, completely and legally blind." The words are muffled by the shirt. Reborn has a hard time believing it now with the way that eye keeps staring at him without looking away. "..Sometimes I see colors."

"Colors?"

"You're yellow. I'm.. orange. Ish."

"That's probably the Dying Will Flames."

"You know about them?"

"I'm _mafia_ , Tsunayoshi. It's a mafia thing."

The other's head bobs in something like nod. A few moments later, the Flame on his forehead flickers out, but the coppery light remains in his eye, still following Reborn's every movement.

"You didn't... attack." He scratches the back of his hand where there's a scrape from the both of them falling onto the coffee table. He's going to need a new one. "You didn't hit back."

"I had no reason to."

"I tried to break your neck."

"I know. You failed. Miserably." Reborn rubs at his throat. Maybe he'll have a bruise? That'll be a first. Tsunayoshi has never tried to kill him before. "I'm stronger than you, Tsunayoshi. I'm not bragging; this is a fact. I am a hitman, a professional killer. I do not fight for fun. I do not spar, I do not train, I do not _practice_. I _kill_."

He takes a deep breath. Cleansing. Sky Flames have that sort of effect, even just lingering in the air.

"..I don't want to kill you."

It's a far cry from the first time they'd met. Him and another Tsunayoshi. Neo Primo. The Dying Will Bullet that killed, then resurrected. Or just killed, if no regrets were present.

(If someone shot Reborn with one now, he'd probably die and come back with the regrets of a thousand lives on his lips.)

"Why did you kill Iemitsu, then?" Tsunayoshi asks, softly, looking down at his hands like a lost child. How long ago had Iemitsu died? How long had he been gone? How long as the mafia been hounding this poor family, what happened to Nana, what—

"Wait, you mean I actually killed him?" Reborn blinks. "You're not just directing all that Vongola-anger onto me? I didn't kill him."

"N.. o..? I'm not? You- yes you did! Dad even talked about it, he knew they were planning to—"

It's probably incredibly rude, but Reborn presses the tips of his fingers against Tsunayoshi's mouth to get him to stop talking. For this part, Tsunayoshi doesn't look nearly as offended as most grownup men might. And maybe ought to.

"Let me explain." He takes his hand away once he's sure Tsunayoshi is willing to listen. "..I'm from a parallel world. Many parallel words, actually. I've been through a lot of them. My.. _acquaintances_ , as you've met them, seem to have arrived years before I did. _I,_ myself, the one you're talking to now, woke up on a train bound for Namimori about.. oh, 3 days ago. I don't even know who's running Vongola right now. You wouldn't happen to know, would you? It's not Timoteo, is it?"

Tsunayoshi laughs. Soft, breathless, disbelieving. _Laughs_.

Reborn sees nothing wrong with it. He's a little crazy himself.

"Why did they even want Iemitsu dead? He's annoying, I get it, but isn't he CEDEF? You can't just kill off CEDEF."

"He got in their way," Tsunayoshi says. He's leaning against the couch now. The eye-patch seems to have been jostled in their scuffle, but he doesn't see any scar tissue or anything worth hiding. "They wanted to bring me into the fold and he.. didn't want them to. Tried to stop them."

"So they killed him." Reborn nods, idly. Doesn't really sound like something Timoteo would do or any of his sons would do. Maybe senility got the best of him in this Cycle. "But they wanted you _in_ before. Why do they want you dead now?"

When he looks up this time, the coppery tinge is still there in Tsunayoshi's eye and it flares even brighter. Though the Flame doesn't return to his brow, he seems to gain some amount of self-confidence in the next few moments. Shoulders drawing up, level and straight. Broad. Self-assured. The blood on his teeth when he bares them is probably from licking it away earlier.

"..I thought to myself, _what would Reborn do,_ " he says, in a murmur like a whisper, like a secret. "They took away some dear to me. The least I could do was repay the favor."

 _Oh._

Now it's _Reborn's_ turn to laugh. A bark of laughter, deep and scratchy and hoarse, and he rubs delicately at his throat. Tsunayoshi really did do a good job of trying to strangle him. He doesn't even look sorry about it.

"They killed my father. So I killed theirs."

 _What a wonderful thought._

* * *

also announcing that if anyone has any scenes or prompts, things you'd be interested in seeing happen, pls feel free to drop a line! either on my tumblr, as a comment, or a pm. though i will be picking and choosing, of course, since i need to make it all revolve around an eventual plot.

there's gonna be one suggested prompt coming up in the next chapter, though it might be a while before i post that one. maybe. i have no impulse control when it comes to posting chapters, after all.


	5. Chapter 5: day 10

**Warnings:** MORBIDITY. slight cannibalism references. tsuna's got amoral sensibilities and reborn just plain doesn't care.  
 **A/N:** thank y'all for the feedback so far! while i'd keep writing this to the end regardless, it does a person some good. again, please keep in mind that this is not in chronological order and the chapter title will have the 'day after arrival' that these events are happening on.

did anyone order some angst to go with their fluff? no? too bad. you get fluffangst anyway.

thanks to hraap for the suggestion to have reborn learn gardening! and otherwise get more ~involved~ with tsuna('s life) /kufufufu

 **Summary:  
**..he sighs and pulls off both of their gloves so that their fingers touch skin to skin, hooked together like a secret handshake.

Tsunayoshi smiles.

 **WindmillQuill:** xanxus is not the head of vongola (i'm sure reborn would recognize xanxus' dulcet tones on the phone, not to mention there would've been a lot more 'scums' and 'trashes', probably), i've got Other Plans for him.

 **Tunafishy:** thanks for the suggestion! bringing the other arcobaleno back in will definitely make for a fun time. though yeah, the sky arcobaleno thing is a little convoluted. reborn's generation of arcobaleno is currently a 'fixed point in time', basically meaning permanent fixtures and a constant in just about every world. for Reasons.

 **to the other various questions i've gotten:**  
\- haha nope that sure wasn't timoteo on the phone  
\- xanxus is technically frozen (not still frozen, but just frozen)  
\- nana is under 'witness protection'. she might show up later.  
\- this is addressed in chapter 6 but in my headcanons, Renato is reborn's original codename in the underworld (not his real name). he changed to Reborn after the arcobaleno curse. ofc, in this au, it gets shifted around a little in each cycle, but the current reborn has this background.  
\- tsuna being this way is partly due to not being forced into the mafia but also due to being homeschooled (from, like, grade 4+ thereabouts) and thus not bullied and put down his entire life. he's still rather clumsy and sucks at sports (and not just because he can't see okok)  
\- re: 'did tsuna kill timoteo?' this chapter should answer about half of that question ohohoho

* * *

/ / / / / / / / /

 **something other than blood**

/ / / / / / / / /

"You're _how old_ and you've never tried a hand at gardening yet?"

"Hey." Reborn points the gardening towel at him. Then remembers that Tsunayoshi can't see it. It makes him feel better, though. "I'm a professional contracted killer, not a housewife."

"If you imply that I _am_ one _one more time_ I will rip your sideburns off and use them as fertilizer."

"I told you, Tsunayoshi." He leans in, murmuring close to his ear. "Use _teeth_."

The man responds by shoving Reborn's face away with a dirt-stained gloved hand.

He spits out soil and probably bits of weeds, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of a shirt borrowed from Tsunayoshi's closet. "Ugh, gross."

For some reason he wears and stocks them up to 4 or 5 sizes too large, which explains why Reborn sometimes sees Tsunayoshi lounging around in loose and baggy clothing. Aesthetic, perhaps? He can't possibly always be expecting some tall handsome stranger to pass by in need of _clothing_.

Maybe they're from previous residents. Other residents. That bed _is_ big enough for 5, and there are plenty of futons stored away. More than necessary for a house that only usually entertains the company of one.

"What are you even using for fertilizer? I didn't see anything in the shed." He spares a glance at the free-standing structure at the other end of a cobblestone path. "Or.. anywhere in the yard."

"Human remains."

Reborn's head swivels back around like an owl. It takes a few seconds of silence before he remembers, _again_ , that Tsunayoshi cannot actually see him turning like a doll in a horror movie. He is missing out on a lot. Reborn thinks his horror movie doll impression is quite spot-on.

"..Where do you get those from?"

Now it's Tsunayoshi's turn to do the same thing but it's _so much creepier_ when he doesn't manage to move his head quite enough to face Reborn properly. It's like an _actual_ broken horror movie doll. He represses the urge to shiver. And not out of fear.

"I was _joking_ , oh my god," he sputters out, laughing. "Just because I might have orchestrated the demise of a mafia boss doesn't mean I'd use _humans_ as fertilizer. I'm not _Hannibal Lecter_ , and there's all sorts of diseases associated with humans that could transfer over."

Then he stops laughing and suddenly looks very, _very_ serious, though he hasn't moved from his position at all.

"..Although, blood and bone meal are more or less baked until dry, so that could theoretically take care of any bacteria and viruses getting into the soil... I'd need a separate blender though..."

Reborn goes over that in his head for a moment.

"You're willing to debone a human corpse?"

"Ew, no." Tsunayoshi grimaces. "Actually, that's not even the biggest problem, is it? I think there was some suspected case of Mad Cow Disease because Japan imported bone meal that wasn't sterilized properly. I definitely don't want to end up with _kuru_ or anything. Explaining that will be so difficult."

"You're _actually_ considering this."

This is so bizarre. Even after the worst of things, Neo Primo was never _this_ dismissive of human lives. Very weird.

Reborn could get used to this.

"Maybe I can turn my backyard into a private cemetery and offer post-cremation burial services," Tsunayoshi mutters.

"But you're growing food. That's probably against health regulations."

"Yeah..." He sighs, then raps on Reborn's kneecap. "Keep mixing."

"And they call _me_ a spartan tutor." Reborn shakes his head, using the trowel to finish mixing soil and fertilizer together in the bin. Has to be mixed _thoroughly_ , or so Tsunayoshi said. "You said bone and blood meal, right? What do you use for it if not human remains?"

"Butcher's scraps. Some people raise their own chickens, too, so I get spoiled eggs or shells. I've thought about setting a corner aside for compost dumping but it's a little hard to manage it properly with nothing but my nose. There's a local plant nearby that I get it from instead."

"You're rather dedicated to this."

"Vongola wants me out of their way. Let them think that I am, if it helps them sleep at night."

"Obviously they _don't_ think that, or else I wouldn't be here."

"So, if Vongola didn't want me dead or looked after.. you wouldn't be here?"

"That's what I said."

"You wouldn't be here? At all?"

Reborn looks up. Tsunayoshi isn't looking at him, of course. It takes a bit of willpower to keep himself from snapping at the not-boy to stop avoiding eye-contact. A mafia boss should be proud and forward, confident. Unshakable and unwavering.

This man is not a boy. This man is not in line for the title, does not _need_ to be proud and forward and confident. Does not need to be unshakable and unwavering. Does not have to be anything he does not want to be.

Does not have to hear that he is the 'wrong' kind of person, that he has to change into what is 'right'.

".. Even after all those.. other worlds, even after knowing me that many times, you.. You wouldn't have any reason to seek me out if Vongola wasn't already sending you my way?"

Reborn stops mixing. He.. has never considered that, honestly. There has never been the need to.

"In every instance of my showing up in a new.. _world_ , let's say, it's always when I'm already on the way to Namimori. Usually my job is to train you to be Vongola's successor." He also has no idea how to tell if the soil and fertilizer is well mixed or not. Smell? Maybe one of those testing kits Tsunayoshi brought out. "I've never had a Cycle where I had no obligations where you were concerned."

"But if you did. Like.. right now. You don't _want_ to kill me, so technically speaking, there's nothing stopping you from turning down the job and.. I don't know, running off to do whatever you want." Tsunayoshi's hands stop moving, stop raking through the soil to take out the clumps and pushing it aside to make a shallow bed. "..You don't have any reason to be here. No reason to stay."

"You could be a reason."

Tsunayoshi's bright green work gloves suddenly wrap around his own dull red ones.

"You're overmixing," he says.

"... Are you making up an excuse to hold my hand?"

"Probably, yeah."

Reborn wishes he would've denied it. He can't tease someone who's not in denial. So instead he sighs and pulls off both of their gloves so that their fingers touch skin to skin, hooked together like a secret handshake.

Tsunayoshi smiles.

/ / / / / / / / /

He's supposed to be testing the mixed soil later that day, to make sure it's got all the necessary vitamins and minerals before they dump it into the bed that will become his first ever garden. Reborn is going to grow salad greens. Lots and lots of salad greens. He's going to eat them all. He'll turn into a rabbit and he won't regret any of it.

Unfortunately, Tsunayoshi is making excuses for physical contact again. This time he claims Reborn has dirt on his face, but given that Reborn has been diligently using a towel to mop up any sweat (how embarrassing, a professional hitman, _sweating over gardening_ ) he's pretty sure there isn't any dirt there.

Which is probably why Tsunayoshi isn't using that towel to wipe it off and has instead been touching various parts of Reborn's face for the past few minutes.

It's a little odd. Unexpected, forward, and very odd.

"...You couldn't have found a reason to do this while we were inside having lunch? On the couch, perhaps? Or the bed, when we were reading? Where it's nice and cool and comfortable, and not out here in the scorching sun on hard compact soil covered in dirt and whatever else your fertilizer is made of?"

"I thought _I_ was the whiny one."

"I think I've lived long enough to earn the right to whine every now and then. My knees are hurting."

"Would they hurt less if I used my teeth?"

"Okay," Reborn says, leaning away. Tsunayoshi just follows him and nearly ends up sprawled in his lap. "You're _very_ different from the others."

It doesn't help that he's _laughing_ , too. Like it's no big deal to suddenly fall on top of a professional killer. Reborn still remembers the first time Tsunayoshi ever laid a hand on him. Remembers how violently he'd responded because he had been stuck as an infant for _years_ by then, and was tired of not being taken seriously.

 _I have no openings_ , he had said. And yet, here he is. Enough openings to pass for Emmental cheese.

"Different how?"

"Bold." Tsunayoshi's fingertips brush over the corner of Reborn's mouth, then down to his jaw. "Unafraid. Daring."

"Stay still," he murmurs when Reborn tries to shift away again.

"Authoritative." Reborn smirks. He leans in to nip at the tip of Tsunayoshi's thumb and huffs out a laugh when the hand jerks away. "You've become a proper mafia boss, and you didn't even need me to help get you there."

"I have not." Tsunayoshi takes his hands back, rests them in his lap for a moment. "I've only become myself."

" _Yourself_ happens to have potential to be a prime boss candidate. No wonder Vongola wanted to bring you in before you went and did something stupid like going against them."

"You think going against Vongola is a stupid thing to do?"

"Alone, yes."

"Then it's a good thing I'm not doing this alone, isn't it?"

"You wouldn't be talking about me, would you?"

"I don't know, Reborn. Are you interested in joining us?"

Reborn sends him an unnecessarily side-long glance. "..That depends on what it entails."

"The fall of the mafia." Tsunayoshi tips his head. "And the destruction of Vongola."

"Lofty goals."

The other man smiles. "For lofty people."

"I'm not very lofty," Reborn admits. "Very reasonable and down-to-earth."

"Making me a mafia boss is not at all reasonable or down-to-earth."

"Well, that's not one of _my_ goals, is it? It's a job description. I get good money for turnings kids into mafia bosses."

"That honestly sounds like a scam." Tsunayoshi shakes his head. He doesn't know just how delighted Reborn is to hear those words again. "What _is_ your goal, then?"

"..Pardon?"

"Your goal. Any plans for the future? Or, in this future, anyway. If _I_ was stuck in a life loop, I know I'd be spending each one doing whatever I could think of. Maybe spend more time with my parents, try getting a girlfriend.. try getting a _boyfriend_.."

"You are so young, Tsunayoshi." Reborn looks at him forlornly. "So young and naive. So young and naive and optimistic and _hopeful_ , it breaks my heart."

Tsunayoshi huffs. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means there's no such thing as a happy ending."

"..Meaning?"

"It _means_ ," Reborn repeats, leaning in close, too close; close enough that Tsunayoshi doesn't even need to see to know how close he is, "that there's _no such thing as a happy ending_."

Tsunayoshi's eye widens. Reborn almost expects blood to start dripping from his lips, from his nose, his ears. Almost expects Squalo's sword to be sticking out of Tsunayoshi's chest, or to see a gaping hole from Xanxus' Wrath.

Nothing will ever top the sight of Tsunayoshi dying at Byakuran's feet.

 _"Don't take it personally, Arcobaleno. This is just the way the apple falls."_

Yes, of course. It's fate. Inevitability. A wheel of fortune where winning amounts to little but a few extra years, and whose only jackpot is 'live long enough to be crowned king, and _then_ die'.

Reborn thinks he has more or less mastered the art of tutoring mafia-bosses-to-be by now. Especially the art of tutoring _Tsunayoshi_ to be a boss.

The only problem is keeping him from dying to his own incompetence or clumsiness before any of that teaching can be put to good use. So annoying.

"..So that means we're not going to die together?"

"—What?"

"We. Won't die together? Old and wrinkled and— I mean—" Tsunayoshi starts gesturing with his hands, a bit more widely than normal, which makes sense because he can't actually tell how close he just came to smacking Reborn in the face. There's a habit he's used to seeing. "We- well, _I_ , I met you once when I was, don't know, _5_ , and... You- the other you? Renato? Was kind of really cool? At least, when I was 5 I thought you were really cool."

He pauses, briefly.

"...I don't think your face has changed much at all. Your sideburns got bigger though. Are you even capable of getting old and wrinkled? "

"I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted that that's all you remember of me," Reborn deadpans in return. "My unwrinkly face and my sideburns."

"Well— they're- they're _loopy_! It's- I can't think of anyone else with loopy sideburns." Tsunayoshi makes swirly motions with his fingers along the sides of his own cheeks. "...And you had a really nice face. Have. Have a really nice face."

"I could kiss you right now, you know that?"

"Um." Tsunayoshi claps a hand over his mouth, and his voice comes out muffled behind it. "Please don't."

"..Can I kiss you on the cheek? Or on your hand?"

"My- my what? My hand?"

Reborn demonstrates by taking Tsunayoshi's other hand, pulling the glove off, and lifting it enough to press his lips to the back of the knuckles.

"Oh? No reaction? I'm impressed."

"If I could actually see you doing that, I'd probably be the same color as my tomatoes right now."

He looks over at the tomato patch. They're only half-ripe and a mix of green, red, and a weird mud brown color.

"That would be disconcerting."

"Yeah." He pulls his hand back, rubbing it on his pants. "You can.. go for the cheek. I- I guess."

Tsunayoshi angles himself in a way that more or less presents his cheek for pecking, and Reborn could almost laugh if it weren't so reminiscent of something, some _one_ else. Not presented to _Reborn_ , of course, because he had more or less raised that one from a youngling, and may have been a bit overprotective in making sure the boy's latest suitor treated him right.

Reborn leans in, presses cheek to cheek with a chuckle and a discreet kissing sound.

"..What? That's it?" Tsunayoshi blinks at him when he pulls away.

" _A la italiana_. Were you expecting an actual kiss?"

Instead of answer, Tsunayoshi just kind of lets out a little whimpering sound, touches his cheek gingerly, and then covers his face with both hands as a swathe of pink sweeps over his cheeks and up his ears.

"..You don't react to an actual kiss but you turn red for an air kiss?"

"Shut up!" The man whines into his hands, obviously flustered. He even folds over in half and would probably be sobbing into his knees, if Reborn thought he was the type to sob his worries away.

Actually he is, but not _this_ Tsunayoshi. Not this Tsunayoshi as he is right now. This one is strong, and those who are strong cannot cry.

Reborn knows this well.

He has become quite strong over the years.


	6. Chapter 6: day 32, ?

**Warnings:** implications of torture. lewd jokes, but nothing explicit. Creative Swearing, slurs? one slur.

 **A/N:** i never considered the idea of reborn actually losing time / memory, although one reviewer had mentioned it, but it does work for some of the plot stuff. we'll see how this goes.

brief mochida/tsuna scene because i ship what i want, but it's very, very slight. like, blink and you miss it slight. this fic is probably going to end up being queerplatonic all27all, or just many, if not all.

there's probably never going to be anything physical that happens above K+ rating in this fic. just innuendo and humor of that variety. because that is me. that is all i'm good for. suggestive humor.

 **Summary:  
** Yes, Reborn is _very_ indignant about Tsunayoshi treating him like this. So _commonly_ , like he isn't a danger and isn't scary at all. He's so indignant that his attraction to Tsunayoshi increases every time the man does something boss-like and demanding.

Which is practically all the time. It's a very unfortunate cycle.

 **WindmillQuill** : _technically speaking_ tsuna kind of grew up hearing about reborn from the arcobaleno, iemitsu has mentioned him before, and he even saw reborn once! or, rather, renato. so he's got some mental image and one-sided rapport built up already. not necessarily a crush, but.. i guess a false sense of closeness. normally this would be a Problem, but in this case, the other party is reborn. and reborn is.. hahahaha. he does consider this tsuna a 'stranger', but also keeps associating him with the other tsunas he's known and is probably constantly reassessing boundaries and stuff. 'well i can't perch on his shoulder anymore. or his head. i miss his hair. maybe i can touch- no i need to ask him first or he'll freak out, but if i ask for permission to touch his hair that would be weird, let's, uh, let's not do that. let's not do anything like that. hands to self. hands to self.' all the arcobaleno have a hard time of it at this point. it's awkward for everyone.

there is probably going to be a pretty sad/happy/heartbreaking ending, if i can't help myself. because i know i won't be able to u_u it will be hinted at just slightly in ch7.

 **in response to some reviews:**  
apparently the fluff outweighed the morbidity in the prev chapter ahaha... anyway, what i'm generally warning for is mostly the discussions/mentions of death (and murder, and stuff like that). reborn thinks about death and murder quite often, in a very.. light and passing way. because he has a died a lot. and he has watched tsuna die a lot. it's not usually very _dark_ , but death is death is death. i tend to drop a note if it ever goes beyond just a few surface thoughts and fleeting mentions.

..actually i think this is just my default writing style. morbid fluff and humor.

* * *

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

 **off with his head and down with the king**

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

It takes nearly falling into a trapdoor cellar one morning while watering by the back of the house to realize just _how_ different this Tsunayoshi is from all the others, and especially from Neo Primo. How different, but also how similar.

"Is this the laundry chute?"

"What?" Tsunayoshi comes up behind him, bumping into Reborn's arm when he holds it out at the last second to keep _him_ from falling into the trapdoor.

"You've got a cellar hidden away here."

"Oh, yeah. It's for the basement. I mean, the sex dungeon. Why would you think it was a laundry chute?"

"Well I don't know about _you_ , Harry Potter, but that does look like a House Elf down there. Raggedy clothes and bald head and everything." Reborn peers down at the probably unconscious figure at the bottom of the cellar, lit only by a lightbulb hanging from a wire that's threaded through a corner of the trapdoor. "All he's missing is the floppy ears. Maybe a goiter."

"He is an unwelcome guest." Tsunayoshi reaches up and tugs the door down, taking very great pains not to slam it shut. "He's not for you to deal with."

" _He_ is also Egidio the Beheader. Very frightening assassin, did you know that?"

Tsunayoshi gives him a _look_. Or gives his general direction the look. He's only off by a few inches. "Why else do you think I have him isolated and chained up?"

"How did you even _get_ him down there to begin with? Not that he would hold a candle against _me_ , but I've known at _least_ one of him intimately and he's not exactly a pushover."

"..Are we talking _devoid of clothing_ intimately or..?"

"The _I'd like to put his head on a stick and send it back to whomever hired him_ sort of intimately."

"Ah, gotcha." He gets a pat on the shoulder. Sort of. Tsunayoshi misses the first pat, then corrects it. "Don't worry, you'll probably get a chance to do that still. Depending."

"Depending on what?"

"Kyouya." Ah. Namimori. Still Kyouya's territory, then. "I'll bring it up at the next meeting and see what he thinks about it."

"Mm." Reborn nods. He'd say 'thanks', but he generally has trouble saying things like that. "What meeting?"

"The sex dungeon meeting."

Reborn leans in and stage whispers, " _Take me with you next time_."

Tsunayoshi takes a step back and pats him on the cheek, right on the sideburn. "I'll ask him about that, too."

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

" _..Aren't you— Renato! It_ _ **is**_ _you!_ "

" _You've got the wrong person,_ " Reborn drawls over the lip of the open cellar door. Tsunayoshi is making a delivery run and has left him with house sitting duty and nothing to do. A terrible combination. " _My name is Reborn._ "

Well, it _was_ Renato, up until Checkerface got involved. Not that big of a deal, it's not like it's his real name anyway. Either of them.

" _No, it is you! I'd know your mug anywhere, and those forsaken sideburns of yours!_ " Why does everyone only remember the sideburns? What about his eyes? Reborn thinks he has very nice, very memorable eyes. A nice chin. A nice face! Even Tsunayoshi had said so. A nice face. " _Renato, you have to get me out of here._ "

" _Why would I want to do that?_ "

" _This man, this boy, he's crazy. Absolutely loco! Look where he's_ _ **put me**_ _!_ "

" _Now now, Egidio, just because he doesn't want to kill you right off doesn't mean he's_ _ **crazy**_ _. Maybe a little bit. Besides, I think you're right where you belong. In the ground._ "

" _No, no!_ " Egidio waves his hands frantically. " _You think he's harmless, don't you? You're wrong. You're inconceivably wrong! He is the worst of them all here, amico. If you won't get me out of here then—_ "

" _Hold on, did you just call me_ _ **amico**_ _? What the fuck? Don't call me that, I fucking hate your guts!_ "

" _What are you talking about, my friend! We are_ _ **partners**_ _!_ "

" _Shut up, you outdated witchmonger,_ " Reborn sneers. " _You wouldn't know your partner from the back end of your own ass._ "

" _How_ _ **dare**_ _you say those things to me, Renato! You want to do this job on your own then, is that it? Amico, you're in over your head on this._ "

" _Stop calling me that!_ "

He manages a few other choice words down the opening, taking great pleasure in seeing Egidio go from stressed and worried to stressed and furious, before Tsunayoshi interrupts them.

"Why are you yelling at my House Elf in Italian?"

Reborn whirls around, biting back another insult. "We're just having a civil discussion, Tsunayoshi. When did you get back?"

"Just now." He holds up a small bag with some things he'd likely received in trade for the flowers and pickled vegetables. "You called him a mongrel. And I'm pretty sure you just threatened to feed him his own liver. Through a straw. That's not a civil conversation."

"I would _never_ do that." He brings a hand to his chest, though not offended. "I said I'd feed it to him through his nostrils. When did you even learn Italian?"

" _Are you siding with the target, Renato? How could you? You're a traitor and a disgrace, you blue-balled TANSY._ "

" _What would you know about blue balls you_ _ **son of a wh**_ _—!_ "

He's still spitting mad even by the time Tsunayoshi slams the cellar door shut ad drags him away.

"Why are _you_ so angry at him?"

"I'm Italian and I'm angry, so what?"

"You don't _get_ angry, Reborn. You've been here over a month and I've never seen you get angry. Not even when I knocked your tooth loose."

"It's better now. Want to see? Well, feel."

Tsunayoshi raps the inside of his ankle with the walking cane. "Don't change the subject on me, old man."

Yes, Reborn is _very_ indignant about Tsunayoshi treating him like this. So _commonly_ , like he isn't a danger and isn't scary at all. He's so indignant that his attraction to Tsunayoshi increases every time the man does something boss-like and demanding.

Which is practically all the time. It's a very unfortunate cycle.

Tsunayoshi sits him down on the patio and takes a seat next to him, arms crossed.

"So, talk."

"..About?"

" _Egidio_."

Reborn grunts. "There's nothing to talk about."

"You intimated that his mother was a whore and that he was one, too. That's not nothing, Reborn."

"What part of _Egidio the Beheader_ don't you understand? He's an _assassin_."

Tsunayoshi looks like he wants to roll his eyes. Reborn has never considered whether a blind person could roll their eyes or not, but he has seen Tsunayoshi roll his eyes enough times to recognize the signs of it.

"The fact that you have him captured at all— besides the fact that you still haven't told me _how_ you managed that —means that either," Reborn starts, holding up his thumb, and then his index finger as he counts off, "A: you or one of yours went out and dragged him back here, or B: he was here to kill you and he failed."

"Gee," Tsunayoshi says, staring right past him. "I wonder what the answer could be."

"Tsunayo—"

"Can't you just call me Tsuna? Everyone else does. My full \ name is so long and weird to hear." It's a set of words that Reborn hears so, _so often_ , that he almost doesn't register them this time. Not until Tsunayoshi keeps talking, and, "I know, you can't get close to your targets, but- I'm not a target this time, am I? You're not here to train me or kill me or.. or anything."

And he actually _thinks about that_ for a moment. Actually considers it. Because Tsunayoshi is right. This is probably the first time Reborn has been around Tsunayoshi without any sort of professional obligations hanging in the air between them.

Fancy that.

"I happen to like your name, Tsunayoshi."

...Also:

"Now _you're_ changing the subject."

Tsunayoshi puffs up his cheeks in a huff. Reborn snorts before he can stop himself.

His laugh is nice. It always has been.

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

"He drugged me," Tsunayoshi admits. Reborn is too busy thinking about what a change in names might mean to their nonexistent relationship to be shocked by that revelation. "About a week ago, when you went out to pick up some groceries for me. He came up to the house and.. I guess he used chloroform- probably because he realized I couldn't actually see, and it was easier than trying to get me to drink something. Not sure why he didn't just kill me right away."

"Plays with his targets," Reborn says idly. "From the way he called me his _partner_ , I presume we were hired to do the job together. One of us to get you to let your guard down, maybe... You must be quite a threat if Vongola is willing to hire me. _And_ someone else."

Tsunayoshi leans against him, now that they've calmed down enough to talk properly instead of laughing like madmen over something as banal as Tsunayoshi's resemblance to the chipmunk that just ran across the fence.

"I'd wondered why you had fallen asleep in the bed in your gardening clothes when I got home that day."

"Kyouya probably moved me upstairs when he came by for Egidio. He never bothers with my clothes."

"You don't seem too surprised or shaken by it."

"Well, it's not the first time. I've got another failed assassin under the peonies," he sighs. "She's bagged up, though. I was going to dispose of the body properly but she was _tall_ and _heavy_ , so I just left her there and dumped soil over the bag. She's been there ever since."

"Okay, first of all, how did you even stop them? No offense, Tsunayoshi, but you _are_ blind, and, yes, I know now you have that Dying Will Flame vision thing, but that doesn't keep you safe from assassins."

"There's a Mist Shroud up around my place. Didn't you notice it?"

Reborn looks up. He doesn't notice a damn thing. That's awful. For him, anyway.

"Then again.. you did just waltz right on in that day, didn't you?" Tsunayoshi muses, tapping at his chin. "Most new people don't do that. Most people _can't_. An acquaintance of mine made it so that anyone with harmful intentions would have trouble getting close to the house, and anyone that tries hard enough results in an alert being sent to Kyouya. Though, we've had to tweak it a few times because of some.. complications. False alarms."

"Like..?"

"A friend of mine likes to fantasize about rough, passionate love-making." Tsunayoshi hums, pleasantly. Reborn.. blinks. "Apparently the Shroud counts that as 'wishing harm upon me'. Counted. We fixed it."

"Oh," he says. Then he hums, too. _Hmm_. "Have they?"

"Have they what?"

"Have they ever actually made rough and passionate love to you?"

"Uh, no. That's why it's a fantasy."

That makes him feel a little bit better. Just a little bit.

"..Who is this person? Are they still bothering you? Do I have to shoot someone?"

"No, he's—"

"Tsuna!" A voice suddenly yells out from around the corner of the house. "Is that you back there?"

"Speak of the devil," Tsunayoshi mutters, then calls out, "Who is it?"

Reborn feels a sense of deja vu coming on.

"Um.. It— it's your neighbor, Yamada Tarou."

"I don't have one of those."

"It's Nishiki—"

"Don't know anyone named that either."

"Okay fine it's _Kensuke_ , can I hop the bushes or are you going to set your pets loose on me?"

Tsunayoshi snickers in a mischievous way that Reborn hasn't seen in a long, _long_ time. "Jirou and Uri are still with Tsuyoshi-san, you're safe."

"Good, because I brought lunch and I'm not letting you feed it to them."

Jirou and Uri, huh? Odd names for pets that aren't box-weapons. Reborn mulls over it for a moment while someone tries to get through the wall of rhodendrons lining the pathway.

"Dammit, Tsuna, do you have to grow so many of them right there? How's anyone supposed to get in without using the front do— who's that?"

"Reborn," Tsunayoshi chirps, looking far too bright for someone receiving the likes of Mochida Kensuke as a guest.

Reborn has yet to have a Cycle where the two weren't locked into an eternal feud of bully and bullied. Very disappointing, considering that Neo Primo had managed to turn that particular nuisance into quite the talented Vongola agent. No wooing involved.

"Reborn?" Mochida frowns. "..That's a weird name."

"Apparently I still go by _Renato_ here," Reborn hums. "If you ask me, that's even weirder."

Mochida jolts and flings something at him past his head in the moment it takes for him to turn his attention to the other. Reborn looks back and sees _a pair of disposable wooden chopsticks_ embedded in ground. Wow.

"...I didn't kill his dad. Stop trying to eviscerate me."

"That's _exactly_ the kind of thing a hitman who killed Iemitsu would say," Mochida growls, having set the takeout aside on the porch and now brandishing a plastic knife and fork instead. "Tsuna! Why are you still sitting there for? That's a hitman!"

"I'd say _I'm not blind, I can see that he's a hitman_ , but I actually am blind, so it just doesn't pack the same punch." Tsunayoshi's mouth twists into a pout. "Anyway, I already know who he is. He didn't kill Iemitsu, Kensuke, you can stop wasting the eating utensils."

"We know he killed Iemitsu and defending your honor is _never a waste_ ," Mochida hisses. He's so serious about it that Reborn can't help but snort.

"Don't be rude." Tsunayoshi swats at his arm while Reborn tries not to laugh. "I think it's sweet of him."

"You're not supposed to be egging him on, it sends mixed signals."

"You worry too much. We've never thought about dating, alright? Ken, sit, I'm hungry."

He belatedly realizes that they are on first name basis. How odd.

Not odd for _friends_ , but still sort of odd, for these two.

"Never? Really?" Reborn raises an eyebrow. Mochida inches closer little by little until he seems to be reassured that Reborn isn't planning to kill the both of them right here, right now. "You two seem like you'd make the _perfect_ couple."

"We'd make an awful couple," Mochida grumbles, squinting even as he gives Tsunayoshi one of the takeout containers. "Like, great, but awful. Here, it's _karaage_. Chicken and burdock. None for your guest though."

"Ooh, I haven't had that in a while." Tsunayoshi brightens and stabs at one of the deep-fried pieces with the fork. Good thing the carton is paperboard. "It's fine, Reborn and I can share. But, yeah, it's not like we hate each other, but.. well, I've always been a bit of a handful."

"And _I'm_ a jerk and a half."

"Not in the good way, either," Tsunayoshi confides to Reborn, making a loose circle with one hand and moving it up and down very suggestively.

Reborn withholds a wretched grin and instead fishes out a chunk of burdock root from Tsunayoshi's carton.

"I was definitely two jerks in that department," Mochida says, pointing with his fork. "And both jerks were for me."

Tsunayoshi cackles. " _Awful_."

Reborn just looks between the two of them with something akin to amusement. This is definitely the most mellow he has ever seen them both in each other's company. Even Neo Primo still had some stilted awkwardness when it came to his schoolmates / bullies turned allies.

And of the ones who happened to make _guardians_ out of their classmates, few ever really survived long enough to reach this same state of comfort and ease. The way Tsunayoshi shifts away from Reborn to lean against Mochida instead, laughing and stealing a mushroom from the other's seafood-less stirfry.

It's easy to imagine them being chummy. Chummier.

Mochida leans in to sniff at Tsunayoshi's hair. "You changed your shampoo."

"Kyouko recommended it. Said it might be good for my scalp, but I don't really feel any difference."

"..It makes your hair look nicer. And smells good too."

"Ken, if you keep sniffing my hair, I'm going to take a picture and send it to Kyouko."

"You _wouldn't_ ," Mochida grouses into the hair. "How are you going to take a picture if you can't see?"

Tsunayoshi makes a gesture with his free hand and, like a trained butler, Reborn takes a phone out of his pocket and snaps a picture of them.

Mochida's head shoots up and that sure is shock and disbelief he's wearing. "Wait what- what did you do- you can't—!"

He tries to grab the phone from Reborn's hand, and would have succeeded if not for Tsunayoshi picking up both cartons of food to sit himself in Mochida's lap and keep him in place while Reborn scoots just out of his reach.

"Done. Should I take another one of you right now?"

"No, that would be mean."

Reborn snorts again. Mochida curses and whines but is apparently man enough not to shove Tsunayoshi out of his lap. There's also the fact that doing so would spill all the food, but Reborn prefers to think that he's being considerate of Tsunayoshi himself.

"Ah, she replied." Reborn squints at the screen and shades it from the sun in order to read her hopefully candid reply. "She says you can punch her boyfriend if he's being too much of a bother. You're going out with Kyouko?"

"That's kinda what _boyfriend_ means, old man." Mochida frowns but stays dutifully still for Tsunayoshi to give him a light sock on the arm. "Oh come on, that was weak. How am I supposed to learn my lesson if you punch me like a feather pillow?"

"You _know_ I don't like resorting to violence, Kensuke."

Reborn rubs at his jaw. He can still recall which tooth it was that Tsunayoshi had knocked loose.

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

Mochida sneaks a kiss as he leaves. Or rather, he tries to.

Reborn snaps a picture. Then he changes the hose to 'jet' setting and chases Mochida off with a pelting of water.

"You didn't have to do that," Tsunayoshi says, laughing, after Mochida has hightailed it out of the yard with a screeching yell, because that was some damn cold water.

"He's cheating on his girlfriend," Reborn huffs through his nose. "And you don't like kissing."

"I never said that."

"..You didn't want me to kiss you."

"Well, yeah... but that doesn't mean I don't like being kissed." Oh. Well, now Reborn just feels like an overprotective parent. Again. "And, anyway, he and Kyouko have something of an.. open relationship, is what they call it."

"Do they, now," Reborn says in a deadpan, back to watering the last row of flowers by the side of the house. With Tsunayoshi's supervision, since he'd gone off to spew more obscenities at Egidio in the middle of watering again.

"Only when one of them is out of town for a while though. They're both pretty affectionate and stuff, and you can only hug a pillow for so long before it loses its, uh, luster. Kyouko's been gone for a few weeks, so I guess it was about time he started coming around here."

"Where's she, then?"

"She and Ryouhei are.. I think they're in France, with Colonello and Lal."

Reborn raises both eyebrows. "What are they doing in _France_?"

"Um." Tsunayoshi starts ticking items off on his fingers. "Ryouhei sort of made friends with Colonello a while back, and Kyouko did, too. That's why they went after him. Colonello in France because he was getting worried about Lal. Lal heard about the mess with CEDEF and Italy in general, and she's been trying to get in for.. a long time now. To assess the situation."

"Oh. What's the situation? Besides your father dying and possibly leaving them with no successor."

"No idea. It's almost impossible to get in or out of Italy lately. Mukuro and Chrome have been in there for _months_ and they're still trying to get out."

"..Mukuro?" Huh. He didn't think Tsunayoshi would associate with someone like that of his own free will. Then again, he _is_ trying to destroy the mafia. No doubt Mukuro would want to have some involvement in that. "What's he doing in Italy?"

"He's... in prison, Reborn. Remember?" Tsunayoshi frowns, just slightly. Just enough that it's less like anger and more like worry. "He and Chrome are in Messina. I think I told you about that already."

"Did you?" The hose peters out to a trickle as Reborn's grip on the handle loosens, and then stops altogether. His gaze drifts to the camellias in front of him. "When?"

"A few days ago.. we had pasta that day. Cheese and spinach ravioli."

He squints. "Wasn't that last week?"

"..No, it was three days ago."

"Oh."

Neither of them say anything else for a while. Reborn doesn't blame him for staying quiet. The others never knew what to say, either.

"I.. well, I guess I might have.. said it while you weren't in the room. Since I can't really tell, you know?"

This is too soon, though. It's only been a month. Right?

"No," Reborn says, and goes back to watering. "No, I'm sure you did tell me... I must have just forgotten."

Tsunayoshi is silent for a few more moments. Then he comes closer, reaching out to feel for Reborn's arm and coming down to his wrist. "Reborn—"

"Don't worry about it," he says easily. Too easily. He lets go of the handle and the water turns off again. He's at the end of the flowerbed. "It happens all the time."

 _It happens every time. Just not this quickly._

"..I'll go out for some sticky notes and notebooks later today. Just in case."

They're yellow, he muses. The camellias.

Yellow, like the sun.

* * *

i tried to tell myself not to update, just because i have a whole / 2 chapter buffer doesn't mean i gotta update as soon as i finish writing the 2nd buffer, but i gotta. i gotta. my impulse control is Weak.


	7. Chapter 7: day 45

**Summary:  
** Tsunayoshi reaches out, far more confidently than he normally would. His Flame flickers, guiding his hands until they curl against the sides of Squalo's neck, and Squalo covers one of them with his own flesh hand. A gesture of kindness and gentleness Reborn never thought he'd see from someone like _him_.

"We'll do our best."

 **A/N** : some personal HC about the nature of flames in this chapter. like in my other fic, everyone's flames have a unique 'signature' that takes the form of scents and sounds, evoking memories and sometimes even flashes of visions.

thanks to Tunafishy for the arcobaleno gathering suggestion that comes into play, too! all the arcobaleno are a little odd. they're old. they've done this many many times, they're tired, they all make dad/mom-level jokes.

the next few chapters will probably be in close chronological order because i want to get the xanxus thing resolved and explained before jumping around again.

* * *

/ / / / / / / / /

 **the moon that never rises**

/ / / / / / / / /

"You've become quite complacent in this life, Sun."

His eyes peel themselves open to the inky blackness of the In Between. The Subspace. Carl Jung would call it the Collective Unconscious.

"One might almost think you were.. giving up."

Checkerface hovers before him. He knows what face lies behind that mask, but this is familiar for them. It is grounding, a focal point, for both him and the Arcobaleno. Or whatever it is that they've become now.

"That isn't good." Checkerface sounds almost worried, but that isn't what his particular brand of worry sounds like. Reborn would know. "Your lot is the Will of the Dying, Sun. If you give up now, that will be the end of it."

That honestly doesn't sound too bad. _The end_. Like the final page of a fairy tale.

"Are you going to give up before you've accomplished your goal?"

His goal? Did he have a goal when this all started? Has he ever had a goal of his own, one that didn't revolve around Timoteo's eternal wish for a young civilian teenager to succeed one of, if not _the_ , strongest families in the mafia?

It's a stupid plan, when Reborn finally sat down and thought about it. For all that his Neo Primo was a wonderful, beautiful, _splendid_ success, it was a stupid plan. Just like the plan to pull his past self into the future to fight Byakuran.

Neo Primo is a success that died before he should have. They weren't done with the world yet.

No, that isn't right. Neo Primo _is_ done with that world. Because that world is dead. Dead and gone, and so is Neo Primo.

There has never been another Neo Primo since the first. They've all been _Decimo_.

Reborn isn't sure if that's because _he_ never brought up the idea of _Neo Primo_ , or if it's because they just.. _aren't_. If they're just different. Different from Neo Primo.

That is how he classifies them. Decimo, and Neo Primo.

 _What about Tsunayoshi, then?_

"What about him, Sun?" Checkerface is still there. Reborn is still _here_. The air around them is warm, smells like water and spice and lightning strikes. Sugar-sweet caramel. The others were just here, then. "If you don't find something to hold onto soon, you'll be leaving him behind."

Strange that he can still smell things in a dream.

"You're not dreaming. You know that."

Yes. He knows.

He smells of sunshine and gunpowder, and lately, like soil warmed by the summer heat.

Checkerface smells like old books, old forests, old houses. Sounds like an old bell, ringing in the distance. Waiting for someone to find him.

"You're letting your affection for this boy get the better of you."

Like a funeral toll.

"Are you willing to leave this world already, Sun?"

No. No, no no no no _no._

 _ **No**_ —

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

"Reborn?"

He's peeling his eyes open again. Except this time it actually _feels_ like peeling. Like he's been sleeping too long and all the sleep is crusted on his eyelids to keep him from waking up.

That's poetic.

And gross.

"Tsunayoshi," Reborn mutters blearily at the blurry face standing over his futon. At least his back has gotten used to the tatami flooring again.

"Tsuna."

He blinks. Tsunayoshi's expression pinches.

"..Sorry?"

"I told you, you can call me Tsuna. I'm going to keep telling you that until you call me Tsuna."

"When did you say that?"

"Every day for the past two weeks..?"

"..Did I agree?"

"Uh, no, but—"

"Tsunayoshi, then." He stares up at the ceiling and frowns as the other man huffs. "..How old are you?"

"Uh.. 30?"

"..Wrong question. How old are you and how long have I been here?"

"Well, technically I'm _turning_ 30, and you've been here about a month and a half. That's what you said before, anyway, seeing as I can't actually keep track of a calendar."

"Can't- oh. Oh." He sits up, satisfied and finally reoriented along his.. jumbled mess of time-space-dimensional travelling. "Right."

"Reborn, are you sure you're okay? You've been like this for a week now."

"Has it really been a week?"

"Actually it's been _two_ weeks, but the first week wasn't that bad, so I didn't count it." The walking cane pokes him in the calf. "Don't avoid the question."

"What question?"

Tsunayoshi sighs and mutters something as he crouches down, eye-level, even if he doesn't actually make eye-contact. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," he replies, oh so slowly and carefully that he may as well be trying to convince himself of the fact. More than he's trying to convince the other of it. "I'm fine... Tsunayoshi?"

"..Yes?"

Reborn rubs at his own chin. "How do you manage to shave in the morning?"

Tsunayoshi opens and closes his mouth a few times.

"..Uh. I shaved once when I was.. 17? And it's never come back since." Then he gasps, looking _far_ too delighted for what he's about to ask. "You have stubble, Reborn?"

"..I— Tsunayoshi, I've been living here for over a month and you never realized this?"

"Well it's not like I ever touch your face at the crack of dawn, do I?"

Tsunayoshi does have a point there. Tsunayoshi also has both hands out, fingers twitching like he wants to reach out and... do very inappropriate things to inappropriate places.

Which means it's probably for the best that Reborn guides both of Tsunayoshi's hands to his face- or more specifically, his chin. It's not the first time or Cycle where he's grown a bit of stubble, but it's not really a common feature, either.

He always shaves it down when he can. Only occasionally does he end up in a Cycle with a full or half-full beard.

Tsunayoshi has never wanted to _touch it_ before.

"..It's all prickly," he says, in something akin to wonder. _Weird_.

"That's what stubble is. I take it you've never felt any before? Not even a shaved head?"

"Only dad's. But he had these weird tufty things too, you know?"

"Oh, I know. I tried to rip them off a few times." Reborn leans back just a bit to avoid getting fingers in his mouth while he yawns. Tsunayoshi's hands hover in place, probably confused by the sudden lack of face. "Sorry. Had to yawn."

"Not because you're tired, I hope. It's almost noon. I've been trying to get you to wake up for hours."

"No wonder I'm starving," he grumbles.

"Come on." Tsunayoshi picks up the cane again and pushes himself to his feet, using Reborn's shoulder momentarily to steady himself. "Breakfast is on the table. You can heat it up again if you like. And... you'll probably want to shave today."

"I'd do that even if you didn't say anything about it, but is there any particular reason you want me all neat and tidy?"

"Kyouya and the others want to talk to you. In the basement."

"You mean the sex dungeon?"

"No." Tsunayoshi's mouth stays a thin smile. "The basement."

..Huh.

Not as exciting as it seemed the first time around.

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

Egidio is still a right menace when they pass by his cell. Reborn wonders what they're feeding him down here. Also, why is he even still alive? The only good hitman or assassin is a dead one. Or one on your side, which generally never happens, so a dead one is still better. When manageable, anyway.

Egidio should be dead. He tried to kill Tsunayoshi, so he should be dead.

He _has_ killed Tsunayoshi. He should _definitely_ be dead.

Tsunayoshi's cane raps against his ankle again. "Stop staring at him."

"I'm going to regret asking this, but how can you _tell_ if all you can see are Flames?"

As much as he's still getting used to Tsunayoshi being actually blind, it takes even _more_ getting used to finally seeing his eye move for the first time in weeks. A Flame-fueled gaze and a Dying Will Flame tend to be the stuff of nightmares for most mafiosi. Nightmares or saviours.

In this case, Tsunayoshi just had to light it to get through a Flame-signature locked security door and hasn't bothered to put it out yet.

"His Flames get excited when he sees me. Thinks about killing me, I suppose. That's how yours get, too, whenever you see him."

"..You can see that much?"

"It's a strange sort of thing." Tsunayoshi looks at him, directly, eye-to-eye. Except, not _quite_. "..I wasn't born blind, and I know what you actually look like. If I had to compare it... it's like if you were actually on fire. But all I can see is the fire, and not you. Shaped like you, but only just barely."

He looks forward again, tapping the way ahead of him with the cane. Reborn knows he can walk the house just fine without it, though.

"I can't see age, or gender. Height is a little difficult to judge, and weight is only a bit more accurate. I can't see faces, obviously. If you move your limbs, the Flames kind of.. shift around it. Move with it. But there's nothing defined, and nothing to really give me any more depth perception than I already have. Or don't have."

"Maybe if you used both eyes?"

Reborn has toyed around with the eye-patch straps before, rather curious as to how this Tsunayoshi would look with both eyes visible. Foiled each time, of course. He figures it's probably an injury, still tender, or just light-sensitive. Gardening can be pretty dangerous, for the few times Reborn has found himself with a flick of dirt in his eye, or nearly tumbled into a bush.

Tsunayoshi's shoulders pull up. "I only have one eye."

Ah.

"That's.. a pity."

"Oh?"

"Mm." Reborn drifts a little closer as they continue down the stone-lined hall. "You look quite nice with two."

Tsunayoshi doesn't laugh, but Reborn can tell he's smiling. He's not as tense, either.

"..Did they..?"

"Chrome got into a car accident a few years back. They said her eye would never recover, among.. other parts of her."

Ah, yes. Sweet, sweet Chrome who would kill herself saving a cat that wasn't even hers. A cat that no one else would save. He does hope she's had a more permanent solution in this world.

"So you decide to just.. up and give her yours?" Wait. "You don't even have the same blood type."

"I'm a Sky." He sees the smile this time, tugging at the corner of Tsunayoshi's lips. Small and sad. "Skies can do anything."

 _Skies can do anything_. Wasn't that just too true. Everyone knew that, instinctively. Maybe that was why Reborn had always pushed his students so hard. Maybe that was why Timoteo was so insistent for Tsunayoshi to be his successor.

"Dad had already shown me the Dying Will and Hyper Dying Will modes. We found out I could compensate for the one blind eye I had at the time by concentrating more Flames in it than usual. He said that usually it had a chance of affecting the eyesight permanently if used too often, but.. well, it was already blind anyway. No harm, no foul."

"Even so. Giving someone your only working eye isn't something to look down on."

"Considering that nearly half her body was crushed in that accident, my losing an eye is the least of her problems." Tsunayoshi stops at a metal door and tips his head, as though considering the muffled voices behind it. "..She's fine now. We managed to hunt down enough donors to replace anything that needed replacing."

"Can I assume you use the term _hunting_ literally?"

Tsunayoshi quirks a smile in reply. "Now she's got some weird craving for pineapples. Apparently that's been upsetting her a bit."

"I can imagine. She still hates pineapples here? Well, hated." Tsunayoshi chuckles and nods. Good to know the pineapple hair joke still applies in this world. "Are we going inside?"

"In a bit. When we're invited in."

"By who? I thought this was _your_ sex dunge— I mean, basement. I'm assuming you paid for it. That means your basement, your rules."

"I keep forgetting that you've only just arrived recently," Tsunayoshi sighs, but not in a way that is demeaning or scornful. More like.. wistful. Regretful. "Reborn.. even with all of Iemitsu's savings, do you think I could have afforded the payments for this much renovation upfront?"

"You got a loan?"

"Who exactly in this day and age would agree to give that big of a loan to a 20 year old man, blind in one eye, self-employed with no college education and no intention of getting one?"

Reborn frowns. That _sounds_ like a trick question, because he can probably think of a few people willing to pitch in and co-sign on a loan, but not a lot of companies or banks willing or capable of loaning out enough for _this_ sort of renovation, to someone of that description.

He gets his answer when the yelling rises even higher and the door swings open. Tsunayoshi bumps into his chest as he steps back and Reborn reaches up to steady them both before they topple over.

Superbi Squalo stomps out.

"How old is the Varia?" He murmurs for Tsunayoshi's ears only.

"In their 40s. Why?"

...Reborn blinks. "How do you even know that?"

Tsunayoshi twists around to frown at him, confused. "Why would you ask a question you don't expect me to know the answer to?"

"VOI." Ah, there's a shout he doesn't miss at all. "Why the fuck is Renato here, Sawada?"

" _Chaos_ to you too, Superbi," Reborn sniffs. He gave up that name for a _reason_ , why does everyone in this world seem so used to using it?

..Actually, he's not _technically_ an Arcobaleno anymore. Maybe he _should_ go back to being Renato...

...Nah.

Squalo's face contorts into something that's a mix of disturbed and angry. "What the hell is wrong with him?"

"Rude," Tsunayoshi grins. Or so Reborn assumes. He can't see Tsunayoshi's face from here, but he hears the amusement. "He's like the other Arcobaleno now."

"Is he?" Squalo snorts, derisive. "About fucking time."

The swordsman stiffens momentarily. "I can say that, right? He's not going to try to kill me like the other one did for being a smartass?"

"I dunno. Are you, Reborn?"

"Leon and I just had breakfast." He lifts a shoulder to show the sleepy chameleon sprawled out on it. "So unless you want chameleon puke on you, I suggest showing a little more respect to your elders."

"You're right," Squalo says with another grimace, "he _is_ weird."

"I never said anything like that, _Superbi_." Tsunayoshi still hasn't stopped leaning back against Reborn yet, so it isn't hard to _feel_ how relaxed and not terrified Tsunayoshi is. "How is he? I haven't come to visit in a while."

"Che. Same as always, voi." Squalo fixes Reborn with a scrutinizing look. "Is that what Renato's here for?"

"Let's hope."

The swordsman's head dips in a nod so brief, Reborn could have imagined it. His mind ticks along. How long have they known each other? What relations does Tsunayoshi have with the Varia? Who are they talking about?

Tsunayoshi is obviously a civilian, and yet Squalo seems to _defer_ to him.

"It's Reborn, by the way," Reborn adds. "Not Renato."

"What's up with all of you changing your names all of a sudden? You're Reborn, Viper's Mammon, and _you_ —" Squalo jabs a finger at Tsunayoshi. "You're not aiming for the Vongola seat so stop introducing yourself with a different name, VOI. You don't get a different name."

"I can try!" Tsunayoshi calls out as Squalo sweeps away.

Given the length of his hair, Squalo has either already fulfilled his oath and is just growing it out again for kicks, or he's only made it in the past few years.

The swordsman stops a few steps away and whirls around, frowning and angry but also something else that Reborn doesn't recognize ever being on his face before.

"Sawada!" He shouts, and then says nothing after. Seems to have some trouble with his words. And indeed, rather than say anything else, he stomps right back and stops in front of Tsunayoshi, looking dismissively between him and Reborn.

Tsunayoshi reaches out, far more confidently than he normally would. His Flame flickers, guiding his hands until they curl against the sides of Squalo's neck, and Squalo covers one of them with his own flesh hand. A gesture of kindness and gentleness Reborn never thought he'd see from someone like _him_.

"We'll do our best."

Reborn has no idea what that's supposed to mean, but Squalo looks satisfied with it. Tsunayoshi drops his hands and the Flame, and the swordsman continues on his way, the detachable sword blade rattling in its sheath at his side.

"So... you know the Varia? Are they retired in the other worlds, too?"

"No," Reborn answers. Retired would explain why Squalo wasn't wearing the Varia uniform, past or future. "Just dead, mostly."

Which is a shame, because Reborn had actually started getting attached to some of them. The Varia. Not their uniforms.

"Oh." Tsunayoshi's head dips a little. "..Well, they're not dead here."

"I can see that." He leans to the side to look into the room Squalo had just come out of.

Tsunayoshi tugs on his sleeve and together they walk in, settling into two empty chairs. Whomever was in here before isn't anymore. Just them.

"..So, Varia." Reborn hums. "Mammon?"

"The one and only."

"How did you manage to get them to fund your little building project?"

"After everything that happened to Xanxus? Mammon was _more_ than willing to help out. All I had to do was pay them back."

That.. does make sense. The esper would never admit it, but they've ended up with a soft spot for Xanxus after going through their own Cycles. Whatever happened here must have been big.

"But it was only recently that Mammon agreed I didn't need to make any more payments."

"Wait— Mammon gave you money _for free_?"

Tsunayoshi shrugs. He doesn't seem to realize just _how big of a deal_ this is. "I'd already paid back half of it by then, but I suspect Xanxus had something to do with it."

"Why? What did Xanxus do?"

Tsunayoshi turns his head towards him just slightly. Not enough to look at him, but enough to show that he might have wanted to. He doesn't say anything, though.

"..Tsunayoshi, what happened to Xanxus?"

The door on the other end of the room opens. Hibari Kyouya stands there in a surprisingly civilian uniform. It's not police or law enforcement, and probably would look less out of place on a delinquent.

He neither says nor does anything, but makes eye-contact with Reborn, and then turns to walk off.

"What did he do?"

Reborn's not really sure what to say to that, because he technically did not do anything of note at all? "..He looked at me and then left."

"He wants us to follow, then." Tsunayoshi sighs and pushes out of his seat. "He doesn't like talking around strangers. Or at all, really."

"Nothing new there." Reborn shakes his head with a nostalgic smile and follows after the other man. "You didn't answer the question, though."

"What question?" Tsunayoshi shoots back, teasingly.

"Is something wrong with Xanxus?"

Tsunayoshi does not answer. Reborn does not ask again.

When they reach the room at the end of yet another short, wide hallway, Kyouya spins around, gestures to it with a pointed look, and then stalks off again. Weird. Didn't Tsunayoshi say he wanted to have a talk?

He walks into the room and finds out why Tsunayoshi didn't answer him. If Reborn wasn't fully awake before, he's _definitely_ awake now.

"Reborn," Mammon says in greeting. They look the same as ever, dark and hooded. More broad-shouldered in this Cycle, slightly taller (or else Reborn is somewhat shorter), and an angle to their chin. They sound the same, though. "You took long enough."

"I've been upstairs over a month now. Don't ask me why it took this long to make it downstairs."

"You _were_ sent to kill me," Tsunayoshi hums. "We had no way of knowing if you were just acting the part or not."

"So you were making sure I was.. actually _not_ going to kill you? Seriously?" Reborn balks at him. "You let me sleep in same bed from _day one_."

"Yeah.. and three days later you admitted you weren't going to kill me. _Anyone_ would be suspicious."

"You were _not_ suspicious, we _held hands that night_."

"So I'm physically affectionate!" Tsunayoshi puts a hand over his chest as Reborn has done a dozen times by now, looking mockingly offended. "You didn't seem to mind at all."

"I have _feelings_ , Tsunayoshi. For _you_. I thought we made this clear already."

"You had only known me for _three days_!"

"I was smitten from _day one_ the moment I saw you pulling up weeds like you were giving someone a Handjob From Hell— not a request, by the way, just an observation. And where does that leave you then? Sharing a bed with a stranger on the first night?"

"This is cute," Mammon cuts in, shoulders shaking with what must be unvoiced laughter, "but can we please get back to trying to get Boss unfrozen?"

Reborn looks away from Tsunayoshi looking partly like he wants to grimace, and also partly wanting to keel over laughing, and turns to the elephant in the room.

Or, rather, Xanxus. Frozen, in someone's Zero-Point ice. In Tsunayoshi's basement.

"He's just frozen, right?" Reborn rubs at his chin, pretending to think about it for a moment. Then he asks, completely seriously, "Have you tried turning him off and on again?"

"I said that to Verde the first time he came down here," Mammon quips back, "and he stormed out screaming like a banshee."

Tsunayoshi lets out a groan behind them. Reborn cackles.

And then mourns, because he had kind of wanted to do that to Verde, too.

* * *

and thus begins my self-indulgent queerplatonic tsuna/everyone he can get his hands on.

i don't know that i intend to ever explain or explore any of his other relationships. the main focus (alongside the sparse plot) is this odd version of r27. they're kind of going at it in reverse.


	8. Chapter 8: day 46

**Summary:**  
"You want to free Xanxus," he notes carefully, watching the way Tsunayoshi nods as though it were obvious. Too bad Reborn wasn't around for that obvious part of their history together. "..Why?"

"Do I need a reason to save him?" Tsunayoshi offers as a soft rebuttal. The fingers around Reborn's wrist are warm, tingly. Trembling, like they're trying not to hold on too tight.

 **A/N:** queer/platonic intimacy everywhere and tasteless jokes. my specialty. also, feelings.

another thank you to all reviews i've gotten! i wish i could respond to each and every one of them but just know that y'all get thanks and hugs (if that be acceptable to ye). as usual, if anything confuses, confuddles, or requires querying, please leave a comment! or a tumblr ask. i accept any and all.

* * *

/ / / / / / / / /

 **the sun that never sets**

/ / / / / / / / /

"Colonello and Lal Mirch are still in France. We'll have to get a message to them or to the Sasagawas to come back here. How soon can they catch a plane back to Japan?"

"Kyouko says flights are booked a week out in France. Or they were a few weeks ago, last I talked to her. The situation in Italy must be spreading out now."

"Fon, Verde, and myself are already here. So is Reborn. Skull says to give him a call once we're ready and he'll ditch his stunt work for a few days. Which just leaves.."

"Luce," Reborn finishes for them, though he's only half listening, more concerned with piecing together the actual 'situation' and all that has happened so far.

He'd gotten as far as 'war with Gesso' before the urge to groan and hang his head in his hands got almost too great to ignore. But he managed to ignore it. Byakuran just _has_ to mess up every single world he touches, the little shit. Hasn't anyone managed to kill him yet?

..Actually, is Byakuran even the Gesso leader this time around? None of the other Arcobaleno have mentioned him by name yet. Reborn really should just ask.

"Luce won't be able to make it," Fon interjects quietly. "She isn't the boss of the Giglio Nero anymore, but she refuses to leave Aria and Yuni to fight by themselves."

The already calm Storm has gotten even calmer over the lifetimes, though from the steely glint in his eyes, Reborn suppose he's gotten fiercer, too. They all have.

"We need the full set to melt the Zero-Point ice, don't we?" Reborn looks around the table. "Mammon, how did it work the last time?"

"I don't remember," Mammon admits dully. "I've been able to keep him from getting his ass frozen most of the time so we haven't had to unfreeze him in a while. I was hoping _you_ would remember, Reborn."

"I don't think Tsunayoshi has even had to _fight_ with Xanxus in at least 3 Cycles now. You've done too good a job keeping him out of the Inheritance battles." He lets out a sigh and runs a hand through his hair. "..I remember something about Flames. But if it's something we found out during the Inheritance battles, there's gotta be something else. Xanxus and Tsunayoshi were the only ones able to use Flames at that point."

"What does it matter _how_?" Verde says with a verbal roll of his eyes in order to avoid taking them off of the laptop screen in front of him. "We can all use our Flames now, we don't need any conductive technology."

"We still need a Sky."

"Um."

All 4 heads turn to look at Tsunayoshi, who has raised his hand and said his first words since the meeting began.

"..I'm a Sky. In case any of you have forgotten."

See, that's _funny_ , because Tsunayoshi still has his Flame lit bright and Sky on his forehead.

"I feel like I should be laughing right now," Fon says in a hum. "Too bad my sense of humor is shot."

"What? What's so funny?"

"Just the fact that you're lit up like a Christmas candle."

"..How is that funny?"

"It's... Never mind. Arcobaleno humor."

"Ha ha," Verde adds tonelessly, for effect. Mammon sucks in their lips like they're trying to keep from laughing.

"Tsunayoshi.. melting that ice—" _(it's not actually ice, Verde mutters. Reborn ignores him,)_ "—is going to need a very, very large amount of Flames. Far more than just lighting up your forehead."

"Didn't you say you used to tutor a bunch of different Tsunas in other worlds?"

"Well.. yes..."

"Then that's that." Tsunayoshi leans to the side and into Reborn's space, despite that they're already sitting next to each other. "Teach me what to do and I'll do it."

"Tsunayoshi, your hand is on my thigh."

"If I move it up higher will that convince you?"

Reborn turns to Mammon. "Help."

Mammon, sadly, responds with nothing more than a dismissive wave of their hand. "I'm just going to let you and Xanxus go at each other's throats in that department."

"Xanxus?"

Mammon inclines their head. "I kept him from being a jackass to _everyone_. He and Tsunayoshi on are rather good terms."

"..How the hell did you manage _that_ — Tsunayoshi can you not, we're trying to have a serious meeting here."

He swears the man is smiling, if apologetically, as he takes his hand back, leaving behind a warmth and heaviness that lingers like too many thick quilts on a winter morning.

It burns and it tingles under his skin. He might almost mourn the loss of it.

"It won't be easy, Tsuna," Fon says with a cough to draw both Reborn and Tsunayoshi's attention to him. "From what I recall, you had some specialized equipment to help you emit flames. And even then, it took nearly a week for you to learn how to control them well enough to use practically."

"You're talking about the other Tsunas, right?" They nod. Well, Fon nods. When Tsunayoshi doesn't continue, Reborn confirms it verbally. "Okay. A week sounds good. We have to wait until Colonello and Lal get back, anyway. Xanxus has been stuck like that for, what, 5 years now? He can wait another week. I don't really need to use it practically, though, and Iemitsu taught me some about controlling my Flames, so maybe it won't even take that long."

Reborn twitches at the mention of Iemitsu, but Tsunayoshi is the only one who doesn't notice. His companions are tactful enough not to mention it.

Tsunayoshi's hand reaches out again, slowly, this time trying to find Reborn's arm instead of his leg. "Reborn?"

He doesn't know why he half-expects Tsunayoshi to get all wishy-washy on them. True, he's usually this confident and sure of himself by this age, not that it was a common thing for Tsunayoshi to live this long, but-

 _But_.

Reborn thought he was the one to make Tsunayoshi that way. Reborn _is_ always the one who makes Tsunayoshi that way, because there are certain dispositions required in a mafia boss. Even with all the subtle variations, the differences in kindness and flexibility, in heartlessness, they all shared a core trait and mannerism. They all shared a similar resolve.

He'd always thought he was the one who put it there. The one to light the fire in Tsunayoshi's heart and mind, give him that _confidence_ and reason to fight.

It was never him. It was never his doing. This, this man right here, is proof.

This one has grown up without Reborn at all, and still turned out more or less the same. It's baffling.

It's like Reborn has had almost no impact on the boy at all, and he's not sure if he should be impressed by that or not.

"You want to free Xanxus," he notes carefully, watching the way Tsunayoshi nods as though it were obvious. Too bad Reborn wasn't around for that obvious part of their history together. "..Why?"

"Do I need a reason to save him?" Tsunayoshi offers as a soft rebuttal. The fingers around Reborn's wrist are warm, tingly. Trembling, like they're trying not to hold on too tight.

"..No, I suppose not." Xanxus isn't _so_ bad in many of the Cycles, thanks to Mammon. Why can't Reborn have as much of an effect on Tsunayoshi as Mammon has on Xanxus?

"Also," Tsunayoshi adds with a quirked smile full of mischief and glee, "this is probably my only chance to get him to owe me for life."

Mammon pinches their brow with a sigh. Reborn doesn't share their lack of enthusiasm.

"That settles it, then," he says, clapping Tsunayoshi on the shoulder and making the man jump a few inches. "Sorry. Yes, fine, I'll teach you what we need to do to unfreeze him."

"He's not _actually frozen_ ," Verde drones again.

"No one cares, Verde."

"I care! It's scientifically impossible for energy to change into a negative state like Flames do, and especially so quickly! If it was actually ice and if it was actively keeping him in that state, it should be shunting heat out into the room. We would be in an oven! We'd be roasted alive while he dies slowly inside. In _every Cycle_ we've gone through I've—"

"Does he do this all the time?" Reborn whispers to Tsunayoshi as Verde continues rambling on and on about Science.

"Why are you asking me? You're the ones who've travelled through hundreds of worlds together."

/ / / / / / / / /

He helps Tsunayoshi cook enough to feed the lot of them, including Squalo, who apparently lives down there somewhere and isn't going out to eat today. The rest of the Varia (or former-Varia) are around, some in town and some in the surrounding areas. Have been for the past 2 years, since Xanxus was brought here. Smuggled in, apparently.

Reborn has no idea how they managed to do that, but he figures Bermuda might have had a hand in it. Given the situation in Italy, the Vindice are probably trying anything and everything to get either side to step down.

How kidnapping a frozen Xanxus would ever get Vongola to _calm down_ , Reborn also has no idea. Maybe it's meant to make the fighting worse, get one side to fall quicker.

No wonder it's so difficult getting into Italy.

"How do you know Xanxus?" Reborn asks later in the evening, as the sun sets.

They're in the backyard, swinging in what might just be a handmade swinging rattan chair hanging from the awning. Tsunayoshi is leaning against him, eyes shut as he reads the book in his lap with his fingers. Reborn wonders where he gets them from. He doesn't recall Namimori ever having a bookstore that sold braille-printed pieces, and Tsunayoshi has a _lot_.

"Mammon convinced dad to bring him in as my babysitter."

"—Your what."

"It was to help him get over his.. anger issues? I guess? I don't know, it was weird. But I know I didn't really like how mean he was and we always got into a lot of fights."

"...How old were you two?"

"I was, um.. 15? and he was 23 or something... Okay, not _really_ a babysitter, but Mammon wanted us to get along before we grew up and tried to kill each other? Apparently that's a thing we do in other worlds?"

"You make up after, sort of. Actually, in my original world, the two of you were quite close to each other."

Unexpectedly, Tsunayoshi does not find that altogether strange or surprising. He doesn't even seem to react to it. What a pity.

"Well, I'm glad our trying to kill each other this time was reserved for intense pillow fighting and ice cream battles. Oh, and kick-the-can. Xanxus is really good at kick-the-can."

Reborn has a very hard time seeing Xanxus as the type to play kick-the-can.

Except for the part where he can totally see Xanxus kicking it as hard and as far as he can, and Tsunayoshi whining about him not playing fair.

"..Isn't that supposed to be played with 3 or more people?"

"Yeah, I guess.." Tsunayoshi shrugs. "But if we'd had any more players, he wouldn't have taught me the best ways to hide and how to sneak around."

"That.. sounds exactly like something Xanxus would do."

"He wasn't leader of Varia yet at that point, but he said he'd already been in training for a while." Tsunayoshi shifts a bit, scooting back so he can prop himself up against the pillows on one shoulder and face Reborn properly. Probably for Reborn's own benefit of seeing his face. "What's the difference between Varia and any other hitman, anyway? Or you?"

"They're technically assassins, though they do take payment for their jobs. Most assassins do. Contrary to popular belief, we all have to make a living. Varia usually takes jobs only approved by Vongola itself, which makes them closer to assassins than hitmen, even though they take jobs from groups besides Vongola. Think of them as very, very loyal hitmen. Professional killers, like myself."

Tsunayoshi hums. "And here I am, using you as a pillow."

"Technically, I'm retired." Reborn points out. "Speaking of which, how is Varia retired, anyway? Xanxus is the type to die on the job."

"It's really only the head officers of Xanxus' generation that's retired." He shrugs again. "Arthritis. Sibling rivalry. Loyalty to the previous Vongola boss. No option to stay on, given what they've done. Whichever reason satisfies you more."

"You killed the previous Vongola boss, though, and yet they're still hanging around." Reborn points out, again. He seems to be pointing out a lot of things. "I still find that hard to believe."

"You don't think I could do something like that?"

"Can I touch your face?"

Tsunayoshi blinks, then nods, his fingers finally stilling over a page in his book. Reborn brings his own hand up, thumbing along a cheekbone that has never been so arched before.

"..Sometimes, in the past Cycles, I thought killing was something you needed to get used to. Maybe even something you needed to experience first hand. The mafia is that sort of world, after all. I even brought a professional to play dead and make you think you'd killed him."

"That's _mean_ ," Tsunayoshi says, but he's giggling, too. The sound makes Reborn smile, however slight. Hindsight is always 20/20.

"But... sometimes, I wanted you to have nothing to do with it. Even though Vongola wanted you as the heir, you were only a child. A child who lived in the light and knew nothing of the dark. A child who could maybe bring that light with him into the darkness. Purge it from Vongola, as Timoteo would say. Bring them back to their roots. It sounded good. It always sounded good."

"How old was I?"

"13. Usually." Saying it now almost makes him want to cringe. Almost. "Sometimes older, 16 at the most. Never younger than that."

"I was really small at that age."

"Mm. You were."

"...That's quite an expectation to put on someone so small."

Yes," Reborn admits, curling fingers through Tsunayoshi's hair. "It is. It was."

"Isn't this a little odd, then?" Tsunayoshi murmurs, tilting his head just enough to indicate the hand in his hair. "You've practically grown up with boys like me, dozens of times. Maybe you even raised them like your own."

"Hundreds," he says, just short of hoarse. "Like sons. Children. But not you, Tsunayoshi. You're.. different. From them."

"I'm different from them." It's a statement, not a question. Not a plea for reassurance. This one does not waver, does not tremble or cow away. "I'm not like them. I'm not the same. I think I might be more upset if I could actually see the way you look at me, but I... can't."

"I know."

This one is strong. They are always strong.

"Can you honestly say you've never thought of them all as the same person? That you've never wanted them all to be the same person?"

Reborn palms the side of Tsunayoshi's face until they're eye-to-eye. Until he can see Neo Primo's scars and wrinkles, a child's small button nose, a gash from when Xanxus pistol-whipped him too hard and too low down his temple. He imagines hair too long, pulled back into a braid that sticks out like a sideways icicle.

Remembers scarves. Plaid, bright green and tomato red. Sunshine yellow, corn yellow, cerulean blue. Gloves and mittens, white and orange wool always. Their favorites.

"No, I can't."

Maybe, come winter, he'll see what Tsunayoshi's favorite is. What sort of coat he'll wear. A casual hoodie? Or has he grown up to be more fashionable? Perhaps a pea coat. Maybe even some puffy monstrosity like the 18th Cycle's Tsunayoshi liked to wear. Reborn hasn't found anything like that in any of the closets. Yet. There's a lot of closets and wardrobes.

"Are you thinking about them again? Right now?"

Tsunayoshi is still facing him, but he's gone back to reading, since he doesn't need to actually look at his book to read it. Reborn can't find it in himself to be offended.

"Yeah."

"..You must have loved them a lot."

Did he? The way a parent loves a child, or a mentor his student? The way a creator loves his creation? The way a fool loves the tragedy in his life?

 _Does_ he?

"I did. I do." His fingers drift down, over skin burnished by the sun, by wind and rain. A face that has faced and survived the elements. The pulse under his jaw beats strong, always. "But you're alive, and they aren't. That's what matters."

 _Strong_.

"There used to be more people living here," Tsunayoshi says, seemingly appeased. "My bed _is_ big enough for 5. Maybe even more. I kind of hope it'll fill up again, when all this is over."

"Would it be presumptuous of me to reserve a spot in that bed?"

"You're the only other one in it, lately."

"Aw," Reborn coos, only a little mocking, and taps a finger against the corner of Tsunayoshi's jaw. "Lonely, are you?"

"A little." Tsunayoshi smiles, just slightly. "..A little bit."

The last slivers of sunlight are bleeding behind the fence, darkening to violet and a deep indigo blue, grey clouds limed with yellow and orange and pink.

Reborn takes his hand back, slings an arm around Tsunayoshi's shoulders, and kicks off to swing the chair a bit. It creaks as it moves, but it holds.

"Yeah," he says. "Me too."

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

"Why are there suddenly so many people in your bed, Tsunayoshi? And where have they been this past month?"

"It's not like they could introduce themselves by showing up in bed on the very first day, could they?" Tsunayoshi says, pulling on a polka-dotted nightshirt.

Mammon and Squalo are paired up on one side, touching back to back. Someone has braided Squalo's hair and it's strewn over the pillows above them. They look like they're asleep, but you never really know with Squalo. Or Mammon.

Fon's eyes are closed, but his lips are twitching like he wants to laugh. Verde isn't even _in_ bed, he's still working at the desk, but he's probably laughing inside too.

Tsunayoshi crawls in next to Squalo and pats the remaining space between him and Fon. Reborn considers it.

"..Can I sleep in the nude?"

There is a chorus of 'NO's from everyone except Tsunayoshi, who is muffling his giggles into a pillow.

He sighs and gets in as he is, having already changed into sleep clothes before wandering over to Tsunayoshi's room, only to find a veritable harem already in his bed. Tsunayoshi scoots closer until they're just barely touching. The only other contact aside from that is the occasional sleep kicking and shifting from Fon's side when Verde joins them.

If he closes his eyes and thinks about it hard enough, he can recall a house full of sleeping children and adolescents. The slumbering snuffles from Tsunayoshi's small bed, Lambo's snoring in the next room over as Bianchi sings quietly to him and Fuuta.

Tsunayoshi settles in with a quiet sigh. Reborn lets himself be lulled to sleep by the sounds that prove he is not alone.

That _they_ are not alone.

/ / / / / / / / /

The bed is disappointingly empty when he wakes up, but Tsunayoshi is still curled up against him, warm and snuffling.

It's not so bad this time around. It really, really isn't.

* * *

i feel the need to add this note in just in case- reborn does NOT feel any sort of romantic/sexual love for any of the young(er) past tsunayoshis that he has all but grown up 'raising'. this isn't to say he's capable of seeing this tsuna through 'fresh eyes', so to speak. the affection and opinions he had for the previous tsunas still carry over, but manifest in different ways this time around. it's neither sexual nor entirely romantic, and honestly if tsuna hadn't made the first move to hold reborn's hand back in ch4, he probably would've kept it as a distant sort of familial affection.

as it is, it's still rather queer/platonic, but less distant. reborn still likes crashing into boundaries and tsuna has grown up to be a lil shit with some of xanxus' influence.

in other news, a slight throw-down next chapter. gird your loins.


	9. Chapter 9: day 47

**Summary** :  
Squalo shakes his arm to dislodge Reborn's. "How the hell do you put up with him, Sawada?!"

"I imagine he's making funny faces when he talks."

 **Warnings:** mildly nsfw jokes. (they're tasteful ones. i think.) nothing else other than that. someone gets hurt.

 **A/N:** some more flame lore! ish. mildly. not super detailed but i hope it's enough to get the idea across.

* * *

/ / / / / / / / /

 **do you believe in halcyon days?**

/ / / / / / / / /

"Squalo.. staring at me isn't going to speed it up any."

Squalo grunts.

"Do you want him to crawl back into bed with you? Is that it?" Reborn drawls, using the swordsman's shoulder as an armrest.

"Hell no! Jesus Christ, stop being so damn _weird_ , VOI!" Squalo shakes his arm to dislodge Reborn's. "How the hell do you put up with him, Sawada?!"

"I imagine he's making funny faces when he talks."

Squalo stares at Reborn for a few moments.

"..What?" Reborn raises an eyebrow. "Are you waiting for a demonstration?"

"He's gonna give me nightmares, Sawada."

"Oh, the terror of seeing someone's ugly mug in your dreams," Tsunayoshi drawls in a tone very similar to what Reborn had used just then.

Squalo.. lets out another grunt. "...Right."

"Hey, I'm not ugly."

" _He that loveth his life will lose it_ ," Squalo snipes.

" _He that loveth his life loveth himself_ ," Reborn retorts.

"That's _wife_ , numbskull."

"I'm not his wife."

"Not _you_ , Sawada."

Tsunayoshi attempts something like an energy attack from a very nostalgic manga series, except the only thing that erupts from the palm of his hands is a puff of Flame.

Also, he's aimed more at Reborn than at Squalo, which Reborn assumes is the actual intended target.

"...That was pathetic."

" _You're_ pathetic, Squalo." Tsunayoshi sticks his tongue out. "Reborn, why isn't it working?"

"It's been one day, Tsunayoshi. 3 hours, actually. I thought you weren't trying to use it practically?"

"Is there a person alive who wouldn't try to do a _Kamehameha_ or _Reigan_?" Tsunayoshi tries to fire off a bullet next, but again. Just a sputter of Flames on the tip of his finger gun. At least he's pointing it at Squalo this time.

"VOI, watch where you're aiming that! What if that had actually fired something at me?"

"Given that you are a trained assassin and have perfect working vision, I'm sure you could dodge it."

Reborn sighs and shakes his head. It's nice to see them being so... friendly with each other, though. Better than the one-sided hostility that Reborn has gotten used to from them.

"You don't have enough focus for doing anything like an attack yet, Tsunayoshi. Just concentrate on emitting Flames and controlling the output for now."

"Okay.. any tips? Hints? Cheat codes?"

"How about, _I'll shoot you if you keep trying to take shortcuts?_ "

"I wish Squalo had the guts to smack you up the head right now, Reborn."

And, surprisingly, Squalo does just that. Whacks the back of Reborn's head with his artificial hand. Ow?

Then he stares at his own arm like he hadn't expected that to happen. _Reborn_ stares at him like he hadn't expected that to happen.

"..Did you actually hit him?"

"Yes," Squalo says. "And I can sense my impending doom."

"Don't worry, I'll protect you!"

"What are you _talking_ about—"

And then Tsunayoshi barrels into Reborn and sends them both to the ground. He's so glad there are crash mats covering the training room floor.

"Tsunayoshi," he groans to the ceiling above, just barely audible over the other man's muffled laughing. "You do realize I am old and fragile?"

"Nonsense. You're a hitman of the highest caliber," Tsunayoshi says into his chest. "Made of diamonds and titanium and a soft gooey center."

"No, I'm a Twinkie bar that's 40 years past its expiration date."

"Unaging, immortal, and indestructible?"

"Wrinkled and crusty on the outside, dried up cream on the inside."

Squalo lets out some kind of wheezing, dying whale sound that seems to pass for a laugh, if strangled and ill-hidden. Tsunayoshi makes far less of an effort to stay quiet.

"Okay, okay, get off, you're _heavy_."

"You're a whole foot taller than I am, I can't be _that_ heavy."

"I have barely 7 inches on you, Tsunayoshi."

"Half a foot! A whole half a foot!"

" _Can you two stop it with the dick jokes_ ," Squalo hisses from where he has migrated to a stack of padded mats to lean against.

"You're _laughing_ ," Tsunayoshi sing-songs at him.

"I can't believe you actually hit me, Squalo," Reborn says, still on the ground.

"VOI, don't just go and change the subject!"

"But you don't want to talk about dicks—"

He rolls over and is on his feet with Tsunayoshi in the moment it takes Squalo to attach the blade to his hand and rip open a gash in the mat right where Reborn's chest had been. He must really not want to talk about dicks.

"You're clinging awfully tight to him, Sawada!"

" _You nearly cut my head off!_ " Tsunayoshi squeaks, both arms wrapped around Reborn's torso and trying to find his footing after that sudden movement. "Uh, that _is_ what he just almost did, right? I mean I can't actually see, but it's _Squalo_ , so I assume he has something sharp and pointy in his hand. Attached to his hand."

"You're definitely going to need some new mats."

"Like I'd ever actually cut you, you big baby boss! You've been through worse than that!"

Reborn's eyes narrow at the implication. "You've _put him_ through worse than this?"

"Can _you two_ please not get _protective_ now of all times?"

"Shut up, VOI!" Squalo brandishes his sword in their direction, as fierce and wild as Reborn remembers all the others being. Unbridled. "I can't believe you're actually buying into his act, Sawada!"

"What _are_ you talking abou—"

"Vongola sent Renato to kill you, dumbass! And you're just welcoming him in with open arms? What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Is he jealous?" Reborn mutters to Tsunayoshi.

"..Uh. No? He can't be. Squalo's not.. really that type—"

"Stop fucking muttering over there, VOI! And let go of him already!"

"Okay maybe he is a little jealous, wow," Tsunayoshi says in a hushed rush of breath. "Didn't expect that."

"You shared a bed with him and how many others?"

"..3? 4?"

"And he hasn't gotten the _least bit_ jealous at all?"

"He's had years to get used to them! ..I think he's just starting to really miss Xan—"

Squalo rushes at them, stabbing his blade through an afterimage of Reborn (and Tsunayoshi's) form(s). Even the additional weight isn't enough to slow him down.

"This is kind of like dancing, isn't it?" Reborn muses after a few more lunges from Squalo and more retreating from the two of them. It's a good thing the room is roomy enough for this much movement.

Tsunayoshi squeaks in response, still clinging on tightly for his life.

"Squalo _please stop trying to kill him!_ "

"I didn't defect to this side to let _him_ kill _you_ , Sawada! Get that through your thick skull, he's not an ally!"

"You were perfectly fine sharing a bed last night," Reborn notes. Unfortunately, that only sets Squalo off bristling even more.

"With _three other Arcobaleno_ in the room!"

"Oh, you really think a mere three Arcobaleno could stop me if I wanted to do anything?" Reborn scoffs. "Even if we _are_ allowed to fight each other, now."

"And that's supposed to make you more trustworthy? VOI! Did you think I was fucking born yesterday?!"

He rolls under a sweeping wave of Rain Flames that leaves cracks in the wall behind him and the taste of deep ocean water in the air. Will box weapons ever be developed in this world? Have they already?

"Can't you just shoot him once, Reborn?" Tsunayoshi grumbles.

"He's trying to save you from big bad evil me and you want me to _shoot him_? I don't even have a gun."

"Where's Leon?"

"Sunbathing in the garden." Why did he do that? Leon could be eaten by a hawk right about now.

"Do the _Reigan_ thing."

"..Seriously?"

"Will you do it if I make laser noises?"

"Please don't." Reborn snorts again, less mocking this time, and nudges Tsunayoshi aside so he doesn't get caught up in any potential blast radius. "Well, Squalo, His Highness has requested that I blast you off the face of the Earth. How do you feel about that?"

"I did not ask you to do that!"

"No take-backs. Although, we're technically not supposed to be using our Flames without the pacifiers, so I can't guarantee you'll get out of this unharmed, Squalo."

"Fucking try it, VOI!"

Blue fire flares from around Squalo's blade and his hand, licking up slow and liquid, like diabetic blood in reverse. Dark and murky, like a deep waters his namesake would be found in.

A thinner bubble of Flame balloons out as Reborn raises his arm, condensing until it's nearly opaque and icy.

His own Sun Flames flicker at the tip of his finger, on and off, and he frowns. A quick glance tells him that the other two are doing the same.

"..Is it supposed to do that?"

"Hold on," he huffs, lifting his other hand to indicate that Tsunayoshi should stay put. Again the point of Flame flickers in and out, like an ember that won't die out. "I mean- don't come over here. I told you, we're not supposed to use our Flames without the pacifier. I don't think any of us have ever tried."

"Mammon can still cast illusions."

"Mist Flames are different."

"Stop making shitty excuses," Squalo snarls. He hasn't dropped the bubble shield yet.

"Shut up, shark." Reborn sniffs indignantly, concentrating and forcing another spurt of flames from the tip of his finger. "I swear I will blow your head off."

A glowing marble of Sun Flames appears, expands, and then winks out just as suddenly.

"Seriously," he mutters under his breath. "I was just _joking_ about being dried up insi—"

" _Reborn!_ "

If he had watched a few more animated mecha cartoons with Tsunayoshi in the past, he might have recognized the cliche appearance of a concentrated laser beam occurring at his finger tips. If only it were just a laser beam.

Instead it's an supernova-esque explosion big enough to throw him off his feet and smash into the wall behind him. Fire blooms in his head, burning, twisting under his skin.

He smells blood as his vision fades to dark.

A lot of blood.

/ / / / / / / / /

"It's happening sooner than I thought." Checkerface is shaking his head. Reborn doesn't really understand why. "You must have made quite the drastic change to your Resolve, Sun."

Reborn.. shrugs. It doesn't feel like that big of a decision. He's been doing the same thing every Cycle.

"That may be so, but something has been altering your Flames recently. Not just in this timeline, but in the past few as well. This is why I've been telling you and the others not to use your Flames so much."

Again, he can't think of anything like that, something that would.. _alter_ his Flames. Alter his Resolve.

He has been trying to make Tsunayoshi into a boss that the boy would _like_ to be, rather than the one he _must_ be. And before that, Reborn had been lenient regarding Timoteo's requests, focusing more on Tsunayoshi's confidence rather than his abilities.

He can't say if any of those decisions were what resulted in Tsunayoshi's deaths.

"And this time you're not even trying to shape him into a figure to lead the Vongola. I'd certainly call that a drastic change, Sun. Wouldn't you say so?"

Well... probably. He can't see what that has to do with anything, though.

"I've said it before. Yours is the Will of the Dying. It's a strong and powerful sort of energy. One that persists even in death. Do you understand, Sun?"

Even in death?

"Yes. That's how you've been moving through different timelines, rather than having you born again into each one. For every 10, 20, 100 or 200 parallel worlds out there, there is at least one in which your interests align. At least one world where your Flames resonate with each other. At least one world where your goals are the same. At least one world where no one would be the wiser if you were swapped in."

Swapped?

"Ah, well. That's not quite the proper term for it. You are in a sense, swapped, but to be more specific.. Let's say I have two glasses; one of water, and one of the thinnest oil you can imagine. Similar, but not quite. What we're doing is not swapping the _glasses_.. but pouring the contents of one glass into the other."

Then both he and the original Reborn, _Renato_ , are in the same body. That sounds like a nightmare.

" _You_ think it's a nightmare? My dear Sun, do imagine what that _body_ is going through. Two sets of Flames, once aligned, and now not?" Checkerface tuts and shakes his head again. Reborn thinks he understands why now. "What are we ever to do with you?"

 _Yours is the Will of the Dying._ And anyone can do anything, if they do it with a Dying Will.

The one whose Resolve is weaker loses. But they do not die, do they?

" _They_ won't. _You_ , on the other hand... it isn't your body to begin with. You have no claim over it, if your Resolve weakens. That's why I said you must find something to hold onto, or else you will leave this world behind. Like a ship untethered and drifting out to sea."

Except in his case, another ship will surface once his is gone. As though his had been keeping it submerged, drowning and waiting for a chance to be free.

What a hassle.

Checkerface chuckles. The sound of it echoes dully in the cavernous space of the In Between.

Well. He'll figure something out about the whole Resolve thing later. Right now he should probably be trying to go back, wake up, before Tsunayoshi starts worrying.

"Who says you'll be going back, Sun?"

He feels a sudden chill. That's right. The explosion. Blood. _His blood_.

Death resets the Cycle. Boots him out of one body and into another. Death _ends_ a Cycle.

But that's only if he did, in fact, die.

/ / / / / / / / /

He looks at himself, hovering in the void-space across from him. A face like this own. Hair like this own. A body, just like this own.

Ah, but that isn't right. That is the look of the body he was just in. Not his own, not his original one. His first body was missing a toe. Unfortunate accident.

Or was that the 6th body? The 2nd had several birthmarks, he remembers that much. 18th had excessive body hair, grooming had been quite a chore. He's pretty sure he had breasts at some point. She. He?

He forgets. He digresses.

This is not _his_ body, and he finds himself drifting away from it. The other takes his place.

He realizes that he does not actually remember what he, himself, looks like anymore.

He realizes that he does not find this as alarming as he probably should.

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

"Tsuna.."

"Hmm?"

"I- Tsuna, I can't heal you properly if you keep touching my face."

"But you've got new piercings since the last time, Ken. And besides, I'm not that badly hurt."

"Yeah, and they're gonna get infected if you keep touching them. And so will your wounds if you don't- stay still!"

The distant chatter lulls him back to a wakeful state, every inch of him heavy as though he'd been asleep for years, rather than weeks.

His head also feels like it's on fire.

A ripple of Flames soothes away that bit of nuisance. His arm is bandaged up and splinted; another ripple seals up the edges of broken, shoddily mended bone there, repairs his joints, unhinges the bend of his fingers. One more banishes the lingering 2nd degree burns, the expanses of stitched, lacerated skin.

He flexes his hand. That's better.

A chameleon blinks down at him from where the it sits on his chest. It smiles. At least, it looks like it could be smiling, if chameleons could smile. He wouldn't know.

Renato smiles back anyway. It's cute.

* * *

sudden plot twist! don't worry. he'll be bach.


	10. Chapter 10: day 48

**Summary:**  
"Illusionists don't dream," Fran interjects, muffled and toneless against the hard concrete floor. "We walk in other peoples' bodies and converse with the devil in our slumber."

Squalo narrows his eyes. "..No you don't. I've seen you dream."

Reborn sends him a very offended look. "Why are you arguing with an illusionist about what illusionists do in their sleep?"

 **A/N:** follows immediately after the prev chapter. i like a little more vulgar camaraderie in my varias, so here you go.

it's tough being a sky to a bunch of wayward elements missing their own sky.

 **Warnings:** casual murder. just a flesh wound, nothing too gory.

* * *

/ / / / / / / / /

 **i believe that all good harvests must eventually wither**

/ / / / / / / / /

"Reborn?"

Sawada Tsunayoshi. Target.

"Hey, you shouldn't be getting up yet!"

Mochida Kensuke.. Target's _companion_. One of them, anway.

Renato steadies himself with a hand against the back of the couch. His vision goes a little hazy from rising too quickly.

"..What happened?" It comes out croaked, unlike his usual dulcet tones. Probably from breathing in dust after that supposed explosion. He has a bare recollection of it.

"You don't remember?" Sawada seems concerned, judging by the crease of brow and downturn of lips. "Your Flame sort of.. went haywire."

"They exploded and you blew up your arm," Mochida adds, disgruntled. "You've been out for about a day now. I only just got here because _some people_ didn't call me sooner to patch him up."

"I'm perfectly fine, Kensuke, and so is Squalo. His shield was still up and he put one around me when we realized what was going to happen."

Squalo. The little shark. Traitors of Vongola.

...Speaking of traitors.

"What day is it?"

"..What kind of question is tha—"

"It's been 48 days since you arrived," Sawada says. "..I think, anyway."

Diligent. Because Reborn asks far too often, probably. Renato remembers that much.

"Where—" He coughs into the palm of his hand. Man, that sounded too much like a dying toad. "Where's Egidio?"

"Um.. still in the basement. Why are you asking?"

"Ooh no you don't." Mochida yanks on Renato's wrist when he tries to move away. "Look, I don't care what you have going on between you and that guy downstairs, you just _blew up your arm_ and gave yourself a helluva concussion."

Renato stares at him incredulously. Mochida does not relent.

" _Sit back down_."

Renato _snarls_.

A snap of his arm to the back of the other's neck sends him slumping down to the ground, only temporarily stunned. Sawada stumbles backwards, falling into the other couch, looking more than a little confused and frightened. Not at _him_ , though, nor at anything in particular.

He finds the kitchen and the hidden switch easily, guided by faint Flame-laced recall and muscle memory.

"Reborn? Where are you goin— ow-" Sawada comes in rubbing at a red mark on their forehead from bumping into the wall. "What are you doing?"

"Paying the Beheader a visit. Haven't you been trying to get him to talk?"

"Well.. We figured we knew what he was after already. Kyouya's in charge of what happens to him now."

"He's not here to kill you, Sawada."

"..What are you talking about?"

Renato resists the urge to roll his eyes. For someone this entrenched in the Underworld, Sawada seems woefully ignorant of it.

"A skilled hitman or assassin does not let himself be caught. He will not divulge information. He will not allow himself to be questioned." He presses the palm of his hand to Sawada's shoulder, to nudge them out of the way. A killer he is, but a mafioso, and a gentleman also. "The fact that he hasn't used a kill-pill yet means he has some other reason to be here."

"A _what_?"

"Suicide pill. Surely you know what those are."

"I— _yes_ , of course, I know, why would he have one?"

"Do the words _liability_ and _loyalty_ mean anything to you, Sawada?"

"Why are you talking like that?" Sawada grabs onto Renato's sleeve, though it does little to stop him from going down the steps to the basement. "Reborn, what's going on?"

"My name is Renato," is all that he responds with. "Don't make me say it again."

Those words do not, unfortunately, make Sawada leave him alone. Instead they grab on more firmly, teeth bared, face twisted into something akin to upset and grim, steely anger.

" _ **Where is Reborn?**_ "

Renato _sneers_ , ignoring the flutter in his chest to know that he, another him, has endeared themselves to someone so utterly in the short time they'd been here.

"Fond of him already?" He reaches out to thumb over Sawada's cheek, and they startle backwards from it, letting go in the process. "This is _my_ body, Sawada Tsunayoshi. Not _his_."

And that is all it takes to make that steel and grit crumble.

"What, did you never think about that sort of thing? You've never thought to ask the other _Arcobaleno_ about the specifics? You heard they were from another universe and just accepted it without question? My, but you're naive. Even the Bovino's Bazooka addresses this paradox."

"I.. I didn't—"

"You didn't care about them?" Renato scoffs. "Well, _that_ no one would blame you for. You didn't know them before they were replaced. It isn't your duty to worry about every single existence on this planet."

"That's—" Sawada frowns. "..Wait, are you trying to guilt trip me?"

"A little. Is it working?"

"Ugh, you're _just like him_."

"We _are_ the same person."

"You just said you weren't—"

Renato shakes his head and turns away to continue down the stairs. The chameleon's head bobs up and down from his shoulder, as though it were laughing. It better not be laughing.

"You had better not be laughing," he says to the chameleon. He hopes this doesn't become a habit. Talking to an animal as though it could talk back, or even understand him. Whose chameleon is this anyway?

It doesn't even look much like a chameleon. More like a flat-faced gecko.

"Who are you talking to?"

"A lizard."

"A li- Leon!"

"You know it? Take it. It keeps staring at me." Renato pauses just long enough to drop the chameleon onto Sawada's shoulder. Partly because the critter looks like it was willing to take very drastic measures in order to switch rides.

"Um, he's- oh." Sawada blinks somewhere in the direction of his shoulder. "Hi Leon. He's not mine! He's.. yours? He's Reborn's. Wait, shouldn't you know that? You obviously remember stuff from the past few weeks."

"Selective memory," Renato calls back up the stairs. Sawada is strangely complacent about all this. "A chameleon isn't useful. I don't need it."

"That's not a nice thing to say to his face!"

"I'm not saying it to his face, am I?"

Sawada sputters something in response, but Renato is already at the foot of the steps and turning down a branching corridor that leads to the solitary cell. He locks the door behind him.

Behind bars, the Beheader raises his head. Renato could almost smile.

" _Chaos, Egidio._ "

Egidio's face scrunches up in confusion, and then goes pale.

" _I heard you tried to seduce me into thinking we were on the same side,_ " Renato says in smooth, smooth Italian. Liquid smooth. Like make-up concealer smooth. " _Well, the other me. I suppose I—_ _ **we**_ _—were lucky that he hated you so much._ "

" _We_ _ **are**_ _on the same side, Renato. Gesso gave the assignment to both of us._ "

" _Funny. All I remember was having a free lunch with the one man I couldn't stand to be near. Two men._ _ **You**_ _were the one who accepted the job, I don't recall ever saying anything about it._ "

" _Then.. then what are you here for?_ "

" _Iemitsu's spawn._ " Renato bares his teeth in a mockery of a grin. " _Sawada Tsunayoshi's life, not death. So it seems we have a conflict of interest between us._ "

" _No we don't— Gesso didn't even send us—_ _ **me**_ _— I'm not here for the CEDEF brat!_ "

" _I know that, obviously. I was_ _ **there**_ _at the meeting. Gesso wants you to get rid of Vongola Decimo's youngest sibling._ " Renato tries _really hard_ not to roll his eyes. " _It's too bad you tried to kill Sawada while you were at it._ "

Egidio snorts. " _You think I'd still be alive if I had actually tried to kill him?_ "

" _I know you like playing with your food, Egidio._ " Renato sighs. " _It's just your luck that this house is Shrouded. Just what you'd expect from a base of operations, really. I don't know why you thought it was a good idea to break in alone._ "

" _He's lucky it was,_ " the Beheader snarls, chains clanking together as he yanks at them. " _Lucky_ _ **you're**_ _on his side or I'd have him in delicate little pieces at my feet._ "

Renato lets out a tut and lifts one eyebrow. " _Are you sure you want to speak of such things in front of me,_ _ **Egidio**_ _?_ "

" _He is a_ _ **child**_ _,_ " Egidio sneers. " _You've been made a glorified_ _ **nanny**_ _to the useless heir of a useless famigli—_ "

A streak of bright yellow erupts from the tip of his finger and goes straight through Egidio's chest, leaving a hole the size of a large marble. He slumps over with a wet gurgle.

Someone kicks the door open, sending the doorknob and bits of wood scattering across the floor.

Squalo meets him, eye-to-eye, sword in hand.

Renato looks at him. Then at his finger. Then at the blood pooling out from under Egidio's corpsifying body, and then back at Squalo and the other ex-Varia officers showing up behind him.

"Oops," he says. But they're already charging at him.

/ / / / / / / / /

He stands across from himself again. Reborn. That is what his other self is named, because he has been reborn.

Reborn looks eerily like Renato. _Eerily_. Not just a matter of seeing himself as if in a mirror, but as though through rippling water. Like there's something wrong with those nose, that mouth. Those hands. The length of his legs. Something not _right_.

It's like he can't decide what he's supposed to look like. Or doesn't know.

He rubs at his chin as they switch places, drifting past one another as they had just earlier. How long has it been? Hours? Just hours. Hours, after an entire month of playing backseat driver to his own body.

..Well. At least the guy knows how to the shave.

Renato looks better with stubble though.

 _Find something to hold onto_ , he tells the other as they fall into place. The darkness is almost starting to feel like home now. _They're quite attached to you. Wouldn't want don't want to leave them too soon._

 _..Who?_

 _Sawada, of course._ Renato waves. _Take care of that body. And get laid at some point, Christ, that was like walking around in a dried up—_

/ / / / / / / / /

There is a lot of groaning when Reborn wakes up. Again.

Again?

Squalo is leaning against the wall across from them, next to Tsunayoshi, who is staring off at... something. Reborn is tempted to look, but then remembers that Tsunayoshi is rarely ever actually staring at _something_.

Still tempting though.

Is that Belphegor on the ground? And Fran? And- oh, yes. That's definitely Levi.

"Reborn?" Mochida looks over his shoulder, strangely perplexed and confused, from where he's crouched in front of Tsunayoshi.

"..Yes? I mean. Yes. What? Why are you staring at me like that?"

"You.. just woke up and said _prune suit_."

Oh.

"Oh. Don't worry about that. Arcobaleno humor. Does Mammon ever do that?"

"Do what?" Squalo snorts. "Wake up and say random things like _carrot sticks_ or _menorah_? VOI— ..actually yeah, that did happen once. Something about a weird dream."

"Illusionists don't dream," Fran interjects, muffled and toneless against the hard concrete floor. "We walk in other peoples' bodies and converse with the devil in our slumber."

Squalo narrows his eyes. "..No you don't. I've seen you dream."

Reborn sends him a very offended look. "Why are you arguing with an illusionist about what illusionists do in their sleep?"

"Because he—" Squalo cuts himself off with a perplexed scowl. He settles for a disgruntled grunt and a crossing of his arms to indicate his withdrawal from the discussion.

Never mind the fact that Reborn's pretty sure that illusionists don't do that either. Unless they're Mukuro or Chrome. Maybe Croquant does, too. Who knows? Who would even ask Croquant something like that?

"More importantly," Reborn continues, "why do I feel like I just killed a man? Not that I'm complaining, but it's been a month and I'm not even really sure where we are right now."

Tsunayoshi inclines his head, still looking at.. something. It's not until Squalo and Mochida both jerk their heads in the same direction that Reborn _does_ look over and—

"Oh," he says, upon seeing Egidio's slumped over probably-corpse. Looks kind of fresh. "..Well. Good riddance."

Someone groans. Probably Belphegor.

"The Prince thought he was retired." Definitely Belphegor. "How is the peasant still so strong? Isn't he supposed to be a million years old?"

"You wanna go a second round, Your Highness?"

Belphegor lets out a fit of giggles that stops about as suddenly as it starts. "No."

"Are you sure? Because that other me suggested I get laid at some point, and I know for a fact that violence turns us both on—"

Levi emits a very, very manly shriek and tries to bury his ears with the flaps of his uniform jacket. Squalo groans _loudly, VOI!_ Belphegor sounds like he's choking and Fran is just monotonously chanting _oh my god, no, stop_ over and over.

Reborn is not quite sure what to make of Mochida's face. He looks.. appalled. And resigned. Which is a very odd combination when he's almost got enough facial piercings to rival Skull.

Tsunayoshi, though. Tsunayoshi laughs. There is a dead body not meters away, and he is _laughing_. It echoes, yes, a little hollow and and a little empty, but he figures that's just the acoustics messing with the sound. Reborn's laugh joins not long after, though his is more of a snorting chortle than anything.

Mochida is already fussing over Tsunayoshi. "Tsuna, stop that, you're going to make your concussion worse."

"He has a what? I didn't hit him, did I?"

"No. Apparently he came in after it quieted down and tripped on the doorknob." Mochida sends a pointed look at Levi and the others. "..Managed to avoid _them_ just fine though."

Squalo shifts in his seat, glaring stubbornly at Reborn instead. Reborn squints at him. He vaguely remembers Squalo being responsible for that doorknob on the ground.

"I don't have a concussion," Tsunayoshi says once he's stopped laughing. He's still 'staring' at Egidio's body. "I just see dead people."

Mochida stares at _him_ for a while. "...I'm not sure if that's his eyes being weird or if he's actually hallucinating from a concussion. If you can even do that when you're blind. Are they tiny?"

"Um..?" Tsunayoshi shrugs.

"The dead people. Are they tiny?" Mochida's face pinches then when Tsunayoshi just shrugs again. "...He could also just be trying to be funny."

Tsunayoshi's lips quirk upwards at the corners. "I'm just being funny. Probably."

"Ha ha ha," Fran adds flatly, prompting another set of giggles from both Belphegor and Tsunayoshi.

"Okay, muffin-top, I think you've had a long enough few days. Time for you to go to bed. And since you're having trouble walking—" Mochida hefts Tsunayoshi into his arms, maneuvering them around the Varia still on the floor. "Your eyes- eye- doesn't react to light to begin with, but everything else points to mild concussion. Probably. Better to err on the side of caution."

Reborn perks up. "Wait, why do you get to carry him?"

"Because your shoulder's dislocated and I haven't fixed it because I want him all to myself." Levi makes a half-hearted grab for Mochida's pantleg, but he dances away with a triumphant laugh. "See ya, suckers!"

Tsunayoshi puts his arms around Mochida's neck and makes a show of swooning. " _Oh_ , my hero."

Mochida really is a Storm like Hayato. Just as manic and loyal when it comes to their Sky. Except he lacks a lot of the tendency to self-combust when shown any sign of affirmation or affection, as evidence by the victoriously gleeful cackling trailing behind him as they go up the stairs.

Age might have something to do with it, too. Neo Primo's Hayato did mellow out quite a bit.

"So what happened to _you_ guys?" Reborn asks once the two of them are gone.

"VOI, you took down Varia's head officers and you seriously don't remember any of it?"

"I remember a _lot_ of things, Superbi." He gives Squalo a flat look. "And I remember them a lot of times. You'll have to be more specific. Aren't you ex-Varia members anyway? That's shameful. Little old me against 4 strapping gents, and you still lost. I don't even have a _weapon_ — where's Leon?"

Squalo gives the top of his head a glance. Reborn, for some reason, thinks looking up is the way to go. All he sees is the ceiling. (Of course.)

And then he sees Leon crawling down his face to lick the bridge of his nose. And his cheek. And eyebrow—

"Stop grooming me, you ridiculous lizard." Reborn plucks the chameleon off with his good hand and onto his shoulder instead, where shapeshifting gecko-chameleons belong.

"Did he call us _strapping gents_?" Fran says, finally managing to raise himself to a seated position against the Levi. "I'm only 20. I'm barely a gent."

"Oh, he's such a baby. So small and innocent." Reborn presses a hand to his chest. "I almost feel bad for kicking his ass."

"You didn't. I tripped over Levi and didn't feel like getting up."

Levi jerks up. "What— you little _shit_ , I thought you were hurt! Get off, you're heavy!"

"You were saying, Superbi?" Reborn asks while Levi and Fran duke it out. And by duke it out, he means Fran sprawling out and laying his meager weight on Levi to keep him down, spontaneous apple-hat and all.

"Sawada tripped the silent alarm. He only usually does that if he's in trouble, so we came running in and thought you were going to let Egidio out and go on a killing spree or whatever."

"I would _never_ do such a thing... Well, not that it matters now that he's dead." Funny, that is. "Who dislocated my shoulder?"

"..I think it was Levi. Barreled right into you."

"I ought to step on his nose on my way out."

Squalo snorts and waves his handless arm. "VOI, you already beat him over the head with my hand. That hurt, by the way."

Reborn picks up the violently detached prosthetic hand at his side with his thumb and forefinger and gingerly holds it out. It's surprisingly light. Probably made of the latest and lightest materials possible. "Sorry. Let me _hand_ it back to you."

Belphegor cackles as Squalo snatches it back with another scowl. "No hand jokes."

"Sorry."

"And you, you damn prince, stop laughing! VOI!"

Belphegor finally stops laughing when Squalo chucks the hand at his head. It connects with a thud and a yelp. Levi reaches out blindly for it when it lands nearby, having given up trying to shove Fran off of him (probably not entirely because he isn't able to).

Reborn pops his dislocated shoulder back into place with a wince and a hiss, letting his Sun Flames heal it up. Still aches a bit, but he can move it now.

"Alright. You guys figure out what to do with that dead body— don't put him in the garden, I don't want to have to see his face all the time. I'm going to go supervise those two kids."

"They're _30_."

"So?"

" _You're_ 30\. 5? 35?" Squalo scowls again. "How fucking old _are_ you?"

"You really don't want me to answer that question."

Levi scoffs. "Old, crusty-ass, hitman-wannabes— wait don't actually step on my nose—!"

/ / / / / / / / /

 _...We stood in the rain, together as always, all seven of us, and wondered what lay beyond the clouds in the sky. Would it be another horizon, a sun burning bright and scorching and gloriously desolate? Or would it be the same landscape that we always saw when we woke, wet and barren and drowning in the acid that fell from above?_

 _We had no business staying here anymore, with our corpses at our feet and the city ruins at our backs. We had nothing here that was not wrought by our hands._

 _And so we forged on. Into the night, into the bleak comfort of the coming dawn. We hoped we would find something beyond the clouds in the sky. Something._

 _Anything._

.

"That's a pretty awful ending for a book," Tsunayoshi says, only slightly slurred.

"Only because you're drugged up on Rain Flames," Reborn says, looking pointedly Squalo, sprawled out at the other end of the couch. Apparently Mochida didn't feel bothered to actually take Tsunayoshi up to his bed and left him down here instead. Probably easier to get him food and water.

There's only a small bump on the back of his head, but Tsunayoshi doesn't seem to be kicking up a fuss about everyone else kicking up a fuss over him.

Then again. Drugged up on Rain Flames.

Squalo snorts and startles awake, caught in the middle of a snore when Reborn kicks him _gently_ on his thigh. "What? What are you looking at?"

"You Tranq'd him so much he said the book was terrible."

"Voi, how's that my fault? Maybe the book's just terrible. Maybe your _reading_ is terrible. Made even _me_ fall asleep."

"I could read the _bible_ and you'd fall asleep, Superbi."

" _Father Renato_ ," Squalo says with a grimace.

Reborn shudders. "Ugh, no. Never. Also, it's Reborn."

"Agreed. What the hell did you even read that was so bad, anyway?"

"I have no idea, I started making stuff up after the third page."

"No wonder it sucked," Tsunayoshi grumbles.

"I take offense to that," Reborn says, snapping the book shut. "That was my best attempt at grandiose creativity."

" _Flying purple dinosaurs_?"

"I've seen them with my own two eyes."

"Were you _awake_?"

"Are you insinuating that I have crazy lucid dreams?"

"Are you insinuating that flying purple dinosaurs actually exist?"

Reborn makes a frustrated noise and shoves at Squalo's thigh with his foot again. "Hasn't Verde made those box weapons yet?"

"VOI, stop that! I'm trying to sleep here!" Squalo snarls, but softly, and more like an angry sleepy puppy than a shark. Probably because Tsunayoshi is trying to sleep, too. "How the hell am I supposed to know? Ask _him_ if you're so curious."

"Verde's trying to stop them from being made," Tsunayoshi chips in with a hum. "He's been destroying all the blueprints and prototypes he and Mammon can get their hands on. They won't say why, though."

"..Probably tired of making them over and over again," Reborn says finally, and with a shrug. "Big old baby is what he is."

Never mind the fact that the aforementioned flying purple dinosaur box weapon had racked up quite the kill count by the time they were manhandled back into their boxes. Hibari's Cloud Hedgehogs were at least mostly timid and adorable enough.

Cloud Dinosaurs? _Not so much_. That Cycle had been, in essence, _fucked_ the moment Millefiore got their hands on those boxes.

Reborn thinks disposing of them prematurely is a rather drastic way of making sure Gesso doesn't do the same this time, though. It probably would have been enough if they just destroyed all the megafauna models. Like the Lightning Moose. And maybe the cassowaries.

"Speaking of big old babies, where's the guy who said he was going to drop you off in bed and then gave up halfway?"

"Kensuke? He had to leave. Date night."

"..He left to go on a _date_ while you're here with a concussion?"

"I have you here, don't I? You've got better Sun Flames than whatever Kensuke learned from Kyouko." Tsunayoshi reaches out and pats him half on the knee. "And Squalo's here, too. Whatever good he's for."

Squalo shoves at Tsunayoshi's feet with his own. Tsunayoshi shoves back. Repeatedly.

"Menace," Squalo hisses, and ducks to avoid the tangerine peel that Tsunayoshi throws at him from the pile in his lap. "You seem fine now, so I'm heading back down to check up on the others. And also _sleep_."

"You're not coming back up for bed?"

"Tch, wish I could. Levi got his ass handed to him, he's going to be sulking for _days_. He's so fucking annoying when he sulks."

"He misses Xanxus. Just yell at him a bit."

"Is that what you do when he slinks upstairs at night?"

"Who, me?" Tsunayoshi lets out an incredulous laugh. "Never! If I started yelling like that I'm sure all of you would break down the door to see what was wrong. And I happen to like my privacy where I can get it."

Reborn considers the little squabble they'd gotten into three days after his arrival and counts himself lucky that they had resolved the problem easily. No yelling. No overprotective quasi-guardians.

"Squalo, hey." Tsunayoshi beckons the man over as he stands. Squalo comes closer stiffly, still sending wary looks in Reborn's direction. Reborn puts his hands up and scoots his chair back from the couch.

Tsunayoshi wraps both arms around Squalo's neck in something that Reborn might consider a hug. Buries his face in Squalo's hair, at the junction of his shoulder. Squalo returns it tentatively, and it lasts a few seconds too long to be purely customary. Friendly.

Squalo gives him a bump on the forehead with his own when they let go of each other, drawing a chuckling giggle from Tsunayoshi. They bid each other good night. Squalo disappears down the hall and he hears the grinding of stone as the passageway closes up.

Then Tsunayoshi reaches out and finds Reborn's wrist.

"Time for bed?"

"Yeah." He leans down enough for Tsunayoshi to wrap his arms around his neck this time, and hefts the man into his arms with a grunt. "Bit early, but that sounds good."

"Your turn to carry me, I see."

"Are you complaining?"

Tsunayoshi snickers, laying his head on Reborn's shoulder. "Not really, no."

"Good. I'm complaining. You're heavy." Or maybe Reborn is getting soft.

"I'm gonna throw up on you if you stumble around too much."

"..Are you being funny or— never mind. I'll grab a bucket."

"Erring on the side of caution," Tsunayoshi hums, and pats the back of Reborn's neck. "A wise decision."

* * *

are you confused yet? yes? good. there's so much stuff i need to explain but i don't want super long chapters or super long author notes so everyone's just gonna have to be patient (me included). for now, let's just establish that renato and egidio in this world are both freelance and not loyalty bound to any one family. they might have a history. renato might be a ridiculous sadistic asshole drama queen. no one is surprised.

as for renato and reborn, for now they just vaguely remember events that happened while the other is in control. as renato says, 'selective memory'. they have no knowledge of each other's thoughts. for now.


	11. Chapter 11: day 49, ?

**Warnings:** frostbite-related things. otherwise, nothing really!

 **A/N:** this sure took a while to write...

my inspiration for not using the current decimo's actual name comes from every khr fic out there that has the entire mafia addressing to timoteo as nono and tsuna as decimo. the precedent has been set. it ain't changing just because tsuna's not decimo 8U

 **Summary** :

"If Renato did kill Iemitsu," Reborn murmurs once the others have gone, "then you can deal with him the same way you dealt with Timoteo."

"But," Tsunayoshi says, voice quavering, "I killed him. We. We had him killed."

"I know."

* * *

/ / / / / / / / /

 **Chapter 11** : day 49, ?

 **mix in blood meal for bone growth**

/ / / / / / / / /

"What happened to Xanxus? I never asked before."

"We don't know," Tsunayoshi says softly. The Flame in his gloved palms flickers eerily across his face. "Squalo says Xanxus and Iemitsu were called in one day, to talk to Timoteo and the Vongola Decimo... but they never came back."

He wants to ask who the Decimo is. No one calls him by name. Though, whether that's out of respect, reverence, fear, or distaste...

Reborn isn't even ashamed to find he's ready to believe that any of Timoteo's kids could fit those molds. He might even believe _Tsunayoshi_ capable of such things.

"Squalo was upset, of course. Decimo wouldn't tell him what happened to Xanxus. Or Iemitsu." Tsunayoshi lets the Flames dance, swirling over his fingertips and leaping up like drops of water. "Said it was a _family matter_ and Squalo had no right to that knowledge."

"You're family, though," Reborn notes. Nearby, Squalo twitches in his seat against the wall.

"But I'm not mafia. Vongola Decimo considers that a problem, especially with the hostilities between them and the Gesso getting.. bad. Problems with loyalty. Xanxus.. wasn't one. A problem, that is. But I was."

"Ah," Reborn says. "I see."

He does. The winner serves the loser. Reborn had said so himself, when Tsunayoshi won against Xanxus the first time around.

One of the brothers must have gone toe-to-toe with Xanxus and won, where Tsunayoshi would have done the same in another world. He can't see any other reason for the Varia's ex-officers to actually defect like this. At least Neo Primo had made some efforts to get on the Varia's good side, instead of assuming they would fall in line with Xanxus.

 _I see_.

"You killed Iemitsu," Tsunayoshi says, quietly. "..Renato killed him. That's what Squalo says. That's what Vongola says."

"I don't think I did," Reborn replies. Murmurs. "I don't think _he_ did. I mean, he went out of his way to get rid of Egidio."

"Maybe he didn't want Egidio to talk about your plans."

"Maybe he didn't want Egidio to talk shit about _you_."

"Someone killed my father, Reborn. Someone _had him killed_ , I'm- I'm not a good enough person to let that slide. I can't _let that go_."

"No one's saying you have to. Christ knows I don't. I still haven't forgiven Xanxus for the last time he shot a hole in my hat— not this one, the other one. A past one."

"But what if.. what if he did kill Iemitsu?"

"You took care of Timoteo, didn't you?"

" _We_ took care of Timoteo," Squalo snaps. He seems to be getting tetchier with every passing day that they aren't working on the Xanxus problem. It's worse when they're actually in the same room as Xanxus' Zero-Point ice block. Like right now. "Should've just brought him back in the Mosca. He would've known how to get Boss out sooner. Or we'd have a hostage at the very least."

"I'm almost appalled at how far Vongola must have fallen for their own assassination squad to go against them."

"What?" Squalo pulls a face. "No, Varia _loves_ the fucking Decimo. Decimo's fine. Just—"

"Squalo and them love Xanxus more."

" _Stop fucking saying it like that!_ "

"Why? It's true. I like Xanxus too. I love Xanxus! If that Vongola Decimo wants Xanxus back, he'll have to, um..." Tsunayoshi takes a moment to consider his options. "..Fight Hibari!"

Reborn raises an eyebrow. "Hibari? Not you?"

"Fight _me_?" The Flame goes out as Tsunayoshi presses both hands to his chest, gasping dramatically. "But I'm _blind_. Vongola Decimo would never fight a _blind man_. I wouldn't even be able to hit him."

"You broke my nose," Reborn points out, resisting the urge to twitch his nose just to prove a point. Because Tsunayoshi wouldn't be able to see it.

Squalo lets out a bark of laughter.

"You weren't fighting back, that doesn't count."

"Does too. Also, the Flame went out."

"I've been holding it for a few hours now," Tsunayoshi grumbles, but he cups his hands together and lights the Flame again in his palms, the way one would hold the final morsel of water in the middle of a desert. "Can't we move on?"

"You're going to have to increase the output next." Reborn scoots a little closer. Squalo does the same, though probably for different reasons. "What does it feel like?"

"Like.. salt. Salty. Sour." Tsunayoshi swallows. The Flame wavers in his grasp. "Like breathing after I've cried for too long. It feels like a hollow ache in my chest that I want to get rid of, but it just keeps getting worse."

"What are you thinking about?"

"..Getting Xanxus out of there."

"That's a bit difficult to intensify. You'll just end up feeling guilty if you can't manage to do it. Try something else."

"Like what?"

"Why," Squalo interjects before Reborn can. "Why do you want to save him?"

Tsunayoshi's face scrunches up. "What's it matter why? You already know why anyway, Squalo."

"Do I?" He leans in even closer. "Do _you_? This is serious, Sawada. They're called _Dying Will Flames_ for a reason, you can't be wishy washy about it."

"I'm _not_ —"

"It won't work if your Resolve is half-assed, Tsunayoshi."

"I'm going to smack one of you."

"Hit Reborn, he gets off on pain."

"I do _not_ —" Tsunayoshi does, actually, cuff him across the temple. Not in any intentionally harmful way, but the point is that he did. "..Ow? No. I don't get off on pain. Don't do that again."

"You didn't sound too sure of that up until just then."

"I've died a few times, in case you've forgotten. And I have no idea what Renato gets up to. So to speak."

" _I'm_ going to smack you if you keep up that line of thought," Squalo mutters, shuddering.

Tsunayoshi squints at him, eyes gilded with orange and copper. Reborn has to remind himself that he can see more than 'just Flames'. Or so Tsunayoshi claims.

"Shhh," he says anyway, just to be safe. And also because Tsunayoshi is reaching for the cane on the ground at his side. "Not in public."

Squalo lets out a frustrated shout and throws his hands up in the air. Then he gets up, stalks over to Xanxus' ice block, and sits down next to it, scowling at them from afar.

Now rid of the nuisance, Reborn reaches out for Tsunayoshi's hands, cupping them together again.

"So. Sour and salty."

"Like bile coming up."

"Let's make it something sweet, then." Tsunayoshi's face pinches again. "I'm going to suggest something. I don't want you to think I'm saying this just because of all the other yous that I've known. I don't want you to think that just because it was true for _them_ that it has to be true for _you_.. and I don't want you to think that it's a bad thing if it is true, or even if it isn't."

"This is not making me nervous at all. In any way."

"You want to protect him." Reborn says it smoothly, knowingly. Tiredly. But fondly also, because this is the part of Tsunayoshi that will never change. No matter how many other people out there feel the same way, desire to do the same thing for their own people, there is only one person who does it the way Tsunayoshi does. With the same vigor, the same relentlessness. The same Resolve. "You want to protect all of them. Because they're your family."

"I'm not going the way of Giotto, Reborn," Tsunayoshi grumbles. "This isn't a mafia group we're starting up."

"I didn't say _famiglia_." The heat is already beginning to gather between Tsunayoshi's palms, warming them like a campfire coming to life. " _Family_. Yours. Something sweet."

"If the next words out of your mouth are _sweet, sweet love_ , I'm going to punch you again."

"You've gotten so _cheeky_ without me dogging your every step from the tender age of 13."

"Creep."

"Home tutor. There's a big difference." Tsunayoshi doesn't look like he believes it. Reborn shrugs and claps their hands together. "So. Something sweet? If I recall, you have a great fondness for desserts."

"..I do." The man draws his legs up and brings their hands up with it, holding onto Reborn's like a child would.

Carefully. Delicately.

"I wouldn't say I want to _protect_ Xanxus," he says, quiet. "Not really. Xanxus wouldn't appreciate it and I wouldn't disrespect him in such a way."

"But you _do_ want to save him."

"Wanting to save him and wanting to keep him _safe_ are two different things." Tsunayoshi tips his head. Reborn does the same, on a whim. "I have no rights to claim over him. I am not his keeper, not a parent, not a superior... I'm just Tsuna. Just a friend, just a lover."

Reborn files away the last part for later.

"He's all alone in there and I.. I just want to get him out. It must be terribly lonely in there. Cold and lonely. Don't you think?"

Flame bursts into life between Tsunayoshi's palms. A flicker becomes a roar, becomes the likeness of a campfire, beckoning. When Reborn looks up again, Squalo is back on this side of the room and the door is creaking open wider.

Fran sneaks in and squeezes into the space between Tsunayoshi and Squalo.

He is quite young, actually, now that Reborn thinks about it. Fran. Tsunayoshi was groomed to be Neo Primo ( _Decimo_ ), but Fran..

Fran is an assassin. Squalo is, too. Levi, Belphegor, Mammon. They all are. Trained, contracted killers. They're not meant to be coddled.

But Fran leans against Tsunayoshi and even props his chin up on the other's shoulder, even going so far as to dispel his unwieldy hat to do so. He is young, and for all that he is legally an adult, he is almost still a child.

Reborn leans against Tsunayoshi's other side.

"Yeah," he says in a hum. "We better get his ass out of there and warm it up together."

"That's ex _actly_ my point!"

Ah, well.

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

 _"Xanxus, why do you have to kill people?"_

 _"I'm an assassin, kid. It's what I do."_

 _"Well, yeah, I know that, but why? Why'd you want to be an assassin?"_

 _"Don't roll your eyes at me." Xanxus cuffs him over the head. Tsuna barely feels it but he whines anyway, on principle. "It's a grown-up thing, baby trash."_

 _"I'm a grown-up!"_

 _"You're **17**. Still a baby trash."_

 _Tsuna throws a balled up sock at him. Too bad it's clean and Xanxus just swats it away like a particularly annoying fly._

 _"You ever met my old man?"_

 _"Old trash, right?" Tsuna ducks his head when Xanxus lets out a cackle. "You talk about him a lot and dad's always going on about how good a man he is, but.. I haven't met him yet."_

 _"Good."_

 _"Oh, come on! You say he's awful, dad says he's great, Mammon and them won't even talk about him!"_

 _"He's decent," Xanxus grunts. "And he ain't someone you gotta see the face of."_

 _"I have no idea what you just said."_

 _"I taught you Italian for a reason, baby trash."_

 _"That wasn't Italian! That was- that was rubbish! Gibberish rubbish!"_

 _"Your ears are rubbish." Tsuna lunges at him, but being still in his teenage years and woefully lacking everyone else's growth spurt, he's easily held at bay by a single hand on his head. "He's a decent man. If you meet him, you listen to him. Which is why **you** are never going to meet him."_

 _"Why?" Tsuna's face scrunches up, trying to shove Xanxus's arm aside. "If he's decent then there's no problem if I ever meet him, right?"_

 _"Don't ask me, that's just what Mammon says." Xanxus lets out a snort. "Something about your damn bleeding heart being a bad match for the family business."_

 _"You can say **mafia** , I already know about it."_

 _"The **point** is that you aren't **supposed to know about it** , so stop fucking **talking** about it."_

 _"You told me yourself that you kill people for a living!"_

 _"I do not **make a living** of it, kid. It's **mafia**. You don't **make a living** from mafia, you **live it**."_

 _"...I don't really get it."_

 _"Like I said. Grown-up mafia thing." Xanxus' hand comes down on his head again, ruffling his hair and jostling him around. "Baby trash."_

 _Tsuna huffs and puffs. Like a pufferfish._

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

"If Renato did kill Iemitsu," Reborn murmurs once the others have gone, "then you can deal with him the same way you dealt with Timoteo."

"But," Tsunayoshi says, voice quavering, "I killed him. _We_. We had him killed."

"I know."

"..There's no way to- to kill him without killing you."

"I know."

"Reborn—"

"I mean it." Reborn tucks Tsunayoshi's head under his chin, hair tickling his nose. "If it comes down to you or me, always pick yourself."

"How can you say that so easily?"

"If I die, then I leave and go to the next Cycle. If _you_ die, I _also_ leave and go to the next Cycle. And now that I know about it, I suppose Renato will come back, once I'm gone. There's no point in dying for that asshat's sake, so don't even think about it. I look better than him anyway."

"...You're in the same body. And did you just called yourself an asshat?"

"I look better in that body. This body."

Tsunayoshi sputters out a laugh. Reborn relaxes, just a little, and wraps his arm around Tsunayoshi's shoulder a little tighter.

"Can't you.. I don't know, stop him from showing up again?"

"That depends."

Tsunayoshi's head shifts until his nose brushes over Reborn's neck. It's cold. "On what?"

"On how much he wants to show up. Versus, well, how much _I_ want to be here."

"But you _do_ want to be here.. don't you?"

Reborn doesn't answer that. Because, yes, of course. Of course he does. Of course he'd like to be here.

And yet, at the same time.. it feels like there's somewhere else he'd also like to be. Somewhere else he _should_ be. Another world. Another Cycle. Another place where he... belongs, because he knows he doesn't quite belong _here_.

So, he doesn't answer.

And Tsunayoshi doesn't ask again.

 **/ / / / / / / / /**

When they talk about frostbite, they talk about limbs going solid and falling off. Toes being lost, fingers shattering. Flesh turning to as good as stone, blood freezing in your veins.

They don't talk about the feeling of nothing creeping trough. Of burning even though there's no ice, no fire.

When they talk about treating it, by some miracle, they talk about how stone may turn back to flesh. Ice melting back into blood, oxygen-starved and stagnant. Nerves burning, pins and needles where it isn't numb.

They don't talk about damage.

They don't talk about the brain. How activity stops. Stops breathing, stops thinking, stops anything and everything. Stops decaying. Just...

... _Stops_.

They don't talk about how everything starts up again. How it feels like catching up on reruns, listening to a relative talk about the last 10 years you never heard about before, about a cousin you never knew existed.

It's not like waking up.

It's coming out of a daze, red and bloody and _raging_ and knowing exactly why he's livid and not knowing why no one else is. Not knowing why someone is stopping him, why no one is retaliating.

Not knowing why his adopted brother's lapdog is the one stopping him from lunging at the figure huddled on the ground.

They don't talk about how it isn't ice. It isn't like ice at all. He doesn't feel cold. Hypothermic.

He just feels _angry_.

"I'm going to make a bet," Decimo's lapdog says, pressing the barrel of a gun against the soft underside of his chin. Those eyes are thin and sharp. Old. Older than he remembers them being. "I'm going to take a chance. I'm going to _believe_ that you've regained your senses now."

He snarls. Snarls like a beast, caged and trapped and weakened, pulling and yanking at a leash around his neck, _daring_ it to be loosened even the slightest bit.

"Xanxus?"

He

 _stops_.

That's a voice he _knows_.

"Xanxus, are you- _ow_ —" the one on the ground hisses and stumbles. The anger in him has been simmering for years. Bound in stasis and left to hang, seeping into his very being. He feels marinated in it. "I guess you're, uh, perfectly healthy?"

A trickle of blood runs down the side of Tsuna's face. Xanxus feels his heart leap into his throat.

Everything hurts. Everything _hurts_ —

—but nothing hurts more than seeing the young Sawada huddled on the ground, wearing his eyepatch over the wrong side of his face. Bleeding from the side of his head.

The anger is fire in his veins, not ice. It sears through him as he shoves past an unresisting hitman, barrels through his own hesitant subordinates, and grabs Tsuna by the biceps to drag him to his feet. The crumpled hat he'd been holding falls to the ground.

Tsuna doesn't look at him. He looks, but.. not _at_ him. He's tracing Xanxus' jaw with his thumb in a way that Xanxus has never seen him do before. The leather gloves they'd gotten for him years ago feels almost clammy now. Clammy and slippery.

Maybe that's just the blood rushing out of his head.

"Where's—" Xanxus croaks and ducks off to the side, coughing, sucking in a breath too quick, too shallow. He lifts his head and blinks through the blurry haze. Looks around. He's never seen all the Arcobaleno gathered together like this before. Almost all of them. "—Where's Luss? The CEDEF trash, where's—"

"He's hyperventilating," Tsuna says, crisp and sharp. He tries to take a step back but Xanxus hasn't let go, gripping him by the arms almost bruisingly while Xanxus' vision swims and dips with every too-fast heave of his chest and his ears feel like they've been cottoned up. "Xanxus, calm down. Calm down before you—"

Everything goes spotted with white, and then utterly black.

* * *

so there's a Hypothetical Problem that arises when you've lived through enough lives and read the same stories over and over enough times... you start assuming the answers to everything and kind of just gloss over really big plot holes.

basically reborn is treating his lives the way you'd treat the first book in a series full of cliffhangers and loose ends. chronic 'I'm Sure It Will Sort Itself Out Eventually'. which, y'know, is probably great for his mental health? and makes it easier for me to write without having to immediately resolve said plot holes, but what about the poor readers? does no one think about them?


End file.
